Curves & Edges
by Buffychick
Summary: Almost a decade after the disastrous kiss at Truncheon, Luke & Lorelei are married. Rory is a world-traveling reporter based in Boston. Jess is a successful author recently moved from Philadelphia to New York. When life brings Rory to New York she and Jess reconnect.
1. Chapter 1

Curves & Edges  
Chapter 1

By Buffychick

Author's Note: I'm not one for song-fic, mostly I think it's stupid, but this song inspired me, so there you have it.

Inspired by: "All of Me" by John Legend

Author's Note 2: I lost my inspiration with _Regrets and Reason_, and I know how horribly unfair that is. I promise to continue it, but in the meantime, I give you this this peace-offering.

Summary: Almost a decade after the disastrous kiss at Truncheon, Luke & Lorelei are married. Rory is a world-traveling reporter based in Boston. Jess is a successful author recently moved from Philadelphia to New York. When life brings Rory to New York she and Jess reconnect.

* * *

She turned the envelope over in her hand, staring at it reverently. She traced her name, Ms. Rory Gilmore, over the loopy script on the front, nothing else marring the card stock because it had been delivered by courier.

Sitting in her office, the view of Boston behind her, she picked up the phone and hit a couple of buttons.

"What's up Rory?" came the voice over the speaker.

"Jack…can you come here for a sec?"

"Uh, sure… Be right there."

A moment later, there was a knock, and her door opened, the face of her cameraman, and best friend on the road, following only seconds later. "What's going on?" he asked, easing himself into her office.

She grinned at him, and held up the envelope. Jack's green eyes became curious. "This came from the AWM," she told him.

Jack's eyes now widened and his mouth fell open. "Are you shitting me?"

Rory laughed nervously. "Nope. Delivered by courier not ten minutes ago."

"And you haven't opened it yet?!" he all but shouted, flying to her desk but _carefully_ plucking the envelope from her fingers. Staring down at the white envelope with Rory's name on it, she could practically feel his heart racing alongside hers.

"I thought you might want to be here," she grinned, her blue eyes shining with both excitement and fear.

"Open this thing right now," he ordered, thrusting it in her face. "Do it."

She took it back from him and took a breath, her hands now shaking.

"Rory…you got it," he assured her, and moved in to sit on the edge of her desk, perching on one hip as his leg tapped wildly in anticipation. "Open it."

She grabbed a pair of scissors, not bothering to find her letter opener, and cut the envelope open carefully, knowing she'd want to preserve it later. Pulling the heavy card stock from its home, she turned it over and read to herself.

A Gracie. She'd won. "The Alliance for Women in Media congratulates Rory Gilmore on her outstanding work in the industry and is pleased to announce her as the 2014 winner of the Gracie for Outstanding Reporter/Correspondent," she read softly, her eyes filling with tears.

"Holy shit," Jack murmured. He couldn't contain his grin. "Holy shit!" he shouted then, grabbing Rory and pulling her into his arms, swinging her around the office.

"Holy shit!" she agreed happily, squeezing him tightly as tears of joy ran down her face.

"You did it!" he cried, holding her at arm's length, pride shining in his eyes.

She looked at the face of the man who had been, literally, by her side in the trenches for the past five years. "We did it," she corrected him. "This is as much about you as it is about me. Your name should be on here too. Just, maybe in slightly smaller print," she teased.

"Har har," he said, blushing. "But thanks. However…this is _you._ All you."

"I couldn't have done it without _you._ Every step of the way. Just know that."

He blushed more deeply, and she grinned because it was, frankly, adorable. Big lummox of a man, built like a linebacker, but he blushed like a schoolgirl at any compliment.

* * *

Later, after everyone in the office who needed to be told had been told, after her agent had cried on the phone and promised to keep it off Facebook for at least 24 hours so Rory could call her mother first, she sat in her chair again, staring out the window, still in slight disbelief that she'd won her first prestigious award.

The road here had been long, but it was longer for others. She'd been lucky, but she was also good. Really good. The Obama Presidential race was long over, he was already serving his second term at this point, but beyond that road experience she had continued to write for the online magazine, and when one of her stories was picked up by the Associated Press, and then run all over the world, doors began to open. Not for the first time, as she sat in her sixteenth floor office looking over the skyline of Boston, she hoped a couple of those doors had hit Mitchum Huntzberger smack in the face as they'd swung open for her.

She had traveled around the world at this point, seven years after she had first boarded that campaign bus headed into the virtual unknown. She had covered disasters, traumas, victories and triumphs. Rory Gilmore had accomplished what she wanted to do, and it wasn't without a little satisfaction that she had been able to flat out turn down jobs for several outlets owned and operated by the Huntzberger family. Not that she hadn't run into Mitchum, or Shira, or even Logan from time to time. The industry wasn't big enough to avoid that. And she was proper, and polite, and laughed at the appropriate times, and feigned interest when needed, as the media mogul would speak to her or to a group at a function, and then shared a secret smile with her Jack or her agent, Beth, who all-too-well knew the history there.

Mitchum made her work harder, if anything. To be first. To get the story, to get the scoop, to be the journalist that everyone respected and liked and more to the point, _trusted _with their story. Every time she beat him and his minions to a story, every time she was the reporter called for the scoop, for the exclusive, it was equivalent to a notch on her headboard. And she knew he hated her for it, and for the fact that she so sweetly refused to work with him or have anything to do with his vast company, and especially when he was forced to print something she wrote simply because good journalism required it.

Rory held up her invitation to the ceremony where she would receive her award, and determined that this was going to require a new dress, definitely. She consulted her schedule, then picked up the phone.

"Hello, my child," rang Lorelei's voice through the cell phone.

"Hey mom…busy this weekend?"

"Are you in my part of the world? For once?" her mother teased.

"I'm in Boston, you know that…and I need to go shopping."

"In Boston? I'm in."

Rory grinned as she began packing up her Coach messenger bag. "Well…I was thinking New York, actually. Can you manage it?"

"Not until Saturday, probably, but should be doable. Luke might even want to come. Not shopping, naturally, but to see Jess."

Rory's hand stopped midway from putting her iPad in her bag. "I keep forgetting he's in New York now."

"Well, it's only been like two months."

Rory continued placing items in her bag, a frown on her face. "I know, but it's not like we talk all the time. Last time I saw him was Thanksgiving when he graced us with his presence for the random holiday visit."

"I think he likes being back there. I don't talk to him much, not that Luke does either, but you know, more than I do."

Rory sat back in her leather executive chair. "His new book is coming out soon. I remember that much."

"Yeah, that sounds about right. So, anyway, why the sudden urge to shop, and in New York?"

Grateful for the topic change, Rory grinned. "Well, they have the best shops for fancy dresses."

Rory could see Lorelei's ears perk up. "Why do we need a fancy dress?" she asked casually.

"So I can look pretty when I accept my Gracie."

Lorelei gasped, which made Rory grin. "You did it," her mother whispered. "Oh, Ror…you did it. Oh my God…honey…I am _so_ _proud_ of you! Oh my God! Luke!" she screeched, holding the phone away from her face. "Luke!"

Rory laughed as she heard Luke's confused reply and then the babbling of her mother, just enough of out of range of the phone that Rory could only make out the sounds and inflections of the words, not the actual words themselves. She waited while Luke caught up and then heard his muffled excitement as well.

"We're so proud of you!" Lorelei repeated, finally coming back to the conversation.

"Thanks," Rory beamed. "I just can't believe it. I'm…stunned."

The grin on Lorelei's face could be felt through the phone. "Well, you shouldn't be. This is huge…and you deserve it so much, Rory. I can't tell you how much you deserve this. Congratulations baby."

"Thanks mom," she smiled into the phone. "So…I need a dress."

"And we will shop like we were born for it, which we may, in fact, have been."

"The ceremony is in a few weeks. I'll try to find out how many tickets I can get, but don't count on anything."

"I'll gate crash. Or get Sookie to cater it and sneak in that way."

A thought crossed Rory's mind and she frowned. "Ugh. Mitchum will be there."

"Why? He's not a woman in media. That I know of. Oh my God, is he really a woman?"

Years of experience had her ignoring her mother. "He just will be. I'm sure of it."

"Well, you've dealt with him before. Just ignore him. Or poison his food. Unless Sookie's catering."

"We really handle grudges so well," Rory commented lightly.

"No one can say we aren't loyal in our hatred. Scorn us and we're the elephants of grudges. We never forget. And hey, I haven't been arrested yet making my hatred of him known, I consider that a success," her mother pointed out.

"I'm heading out. I'll call you tonight and we'll figure out plans?"

"You bet," her mother confirmed, then more softly, "Hey, kid…I'm so proud of you."

Rory smiled into the phone, feeling loved. "Thanks mom. I owe at least 47% of it to you."

"Rude!" Lorelei gasped. "You owe me at _least _64%."

"You lost points during that whole _Keeping up with the Kardashians_ phase."

"I only watched _one_ season," Lorelei protested.

"But the impact lasts forever," Rory said simply.

* * *

**Please review - I live for it, and it keeps me motivated.**


	2. Chapter 2

Curves & Edges: Chapter Two

By Buffychick

Inspired by: "All of Me" by John Legend

Author's Note: I'm not one for song-fic, mostly I think it's stupid, but this song inspired me, so there you have it.

Author's Note 2: I lost my inspiration with _Regrets and Reason_, and I know how horribly unfair that is. I promise to continue it, but in the meantime, I give you this this peace-offering.

Summary: Almost a decade after the disastrous kiss at Truncheon, Luke & Lorelei are married. Rory is a world-traveling reporter based in Boston. Jess is a successful author recently moved from Philadelphia to New York. When life brings Rory to New York she and Jess reconnect.

* * *

The following Friday evening, Rory drove into the city and checked into her hotel, ready for a night alone before her mother and Luke showed up the next morning.

Dropping her bags onto the bed, she toed off her shoes and quickly found a pair of well-loved yoga pants, divesting herself of the suit she'd been wearing since 5am. She was tired. And a night of in-room movies, in-room dining, and falling asleep whenever she felt like it (though, truthfully, probably much earlier than she'd care to admit), were in her future. She was almost giddy.

Grabbing her toiletry bag, she headed to the bathroom with a long, hot shower on her mind. Twenty minutes later, much more relaxed than she had been, she clambered onto the bed, wet hair wrapped in a towel, ready to peruse the outrageously priced movie selection. Glancing at her phone, she realized she had missed messages. She ignored the text from her editor, and the one from her coworker who wanted her to review a piece, but paused at the last, from Jess.

_Hear you're in town. Quick dinner, or do you have plans?_

She stared at her phone for a solid minute, trying to comprehend the words on the screen. Jess was texting her. And asking her to go to dinner. They didn't generally do this…talking…or eating together… unless it involved a holiday in Stars Hollow. Her mind was reeling and she sat back against the headboard to steady herself.

_You want to have dinner with me?_

_No, I want to have dinner with Kate Upton, but she's busy. You're my second choice._

Her lips pursed in slight amusement. _Charming as ever._

_It's like my superpower._

_How could I possibly say no now? Oh, wait, I remember. Like this: No._

_Your mind isn't that slow, but that's the wrong answer. Say yes. It'll be fun. We haven't been out together in years. We should catch up._

_Without the supervision of Luke or Lorelei? However would we manage?_

_We're grown up now. I think we can handle it. I'm not going to beg, though._

She had to admit, her curiosity was peaked. This was completely unprecedented. "But I'm in my comfy clothes," she huffed.

_Hm. Tough call. I'm in comfy clothes and was planning to room-service it,_ she replied.

A moment later: _Please tell me you're not wearing that ratty Harvard t-shirt. It's gotta be 15 years old and you didn't even go to that school._

She laughed, and lied. _Shut up. It's the most comfortable shirt I own._

_I'm right, aren't I._

_No._

_Yes._

_No._

_Liar._

_Maybe._

_Well, have fun being a hermit._

_I'm not a hermit._

_What if I find a natural disaster…that would probably get you to come out of your room._

_I'm not a hermit!_

_Prove me wrong!_

She grinned. _Oh FINE. But you're paying. And picking me up._

_You drive a hard bargain. Twenty minutes. I know the hotel, but what room?_

_503._

Bounding off the bed she flew around the room, drying her hair and applying some light mascara while she found jeans and a sweater. With a minute to spare there was a knock on the door and she opened it breathlessly. "Hi."

Jess stood before her, jeans, white button-down shirt, dark gray corduroy blazer, hair still stylishly mussed, slight stubble across his face. "Hey yourself." It had been a few months since he'd seen her, nothing much had changed in that area, but he was still appreciative of what stood before him. Always had been. Couldn't deny the Gilmores had remarkable genes.

Gorgeous blue eyes threw him a mock-irritated look and she backed into the room, chattering nervously. "You couldn't have texted me before I got a shower and all comfy?"

"Sorry," he grinned, looking around the room. "I promise I won't keep you out all night."

Rory snorted and grabbed her purse and jacket, leading them out into the hallway. "You'll be lucky to keep me out past 9:00."

"Long week?"

"Yeah," she nodded tiredly, as they headed down the hallway. "Glad I can get away for the weekend. That rarely happens."

He gave her an appreciative glance. "So I figured. You're everywhere when I turn on the TV." They reached the elevator and he hit the button, turning back to her and shoving his hands in his pockets, rocking on his feet a bit. "It makes that stalking thing so much easier."

"I haven't reached stalker-status yet," she replied easily as they stepped into the elevator. "At least, none that have made themselves known."

"Oh, you'll get there," he assured her casually, punching the button for the lobby. "I have no doubt. Pretty soon you'll be all unlisted number, body guards and security people everywhere."

She laughed, her eyes twinkling. "I'm not sure field reporters have those problems."

"Au contraire. Matt Lauer can't go_ anywhere._"

"You can talk," she teased, as they stepped out into the lobby and then onto the street, the doorman hailing them a cab. "You have your own shelf on the Barnes and Noble Employee Recommendation section, and your last book signing had more than its fair share of angsty teenaged girls."

He cocked an eyebrow at her, smirking. "How would you know?"

"I saw it on TMZ," she grinned, mock-swooning. "Aaaaallll the girls love dark, tortured Jess Mariano. He's so deep! And mysterious!"

Now he laughed. "Not true."

She rolled her eyes and realized that she was already beginning to relax. This had always come easy to them, the banter. "Fan-girls. Jess Mariano has _fan-girls!_ I hadn't thought about that before now…but should I be concerned to be seen with you? Will the paparazzi show up any time now? I'm surprised they're not clogging traffic."

The cab arrived and he gratefully allowed her to scoot in, following her and giving the driver the address. "Hill Street Blues House."

The cabbie nodded and turned back to his talk radio show, zooming out into New York traffic.

"Like…the TV show?" Rory asked.

"Blues bar that happens to be on Hill Street. Cheesy name, good music, great food."

"Sounds good," she replied, and sat back in her seat, observing him with eyes that, for not the first time, he felt saw too much. "You look good," she told him.

Jess gave an embarrassed half smile. "Same to you. Been awhile."

"Thanksgiving," she remembered.

They sat in silence for a moment before Jess offered, "It's not that far, we could have walked."

"It's okay. I don't mind. Maybe on the way back. If the paps aren't swarming the restaurant, that is."

"Oh shut up."

* * *

The bar was exactly what she expected in a place Jess would bring her. Dark, smoky, with lush velvety booths like a 1950's Rat Pack club, and one of the best pianists banging on the keys when they walked in and were immediately seated.

They ordered drinks, then meals, and then all that was left was the slightly awkward silence. "So, why did you text me?" she asked him finally.

He cocked his head slightly, observing her. "You're in town. Without Luke or Lorelei, I'm living here."

"Yes, I get all that. But why?"

"There has to be a specific reason?"

Her eyebrow raised. "No, I guess there doesn't. It was just…unexpected."

He waited a beat, then shrugged. "I just found out last night you were going to be here. Luke called to see if he and I could hang out a bit tomorrow, mentioned you were coming in earlier than they are. It's been a really long time since we've hung out together without my uncle, or your mother, or any of the denizens of Stars Hollow breathing over our shoulders."

"I suppose that much is true. Though I'm not sure I know how to act around you anymore without Ms. Patti trying to grope you or Babette chasing you through the square for your autograph," she smirked.

He groaned. "Those two are a terrorist threat in their own right."

Dinner was filled with light conversation and laughter, and when the owner approached them, a woman with the darkest, most lovely cocoa-colored skin she had ever seen, Rory was treated to the sight of Jess being all but lifted out of his chair and embraced in a bear hug by the large, beautiful woman.

"You don't come around anymore," the woman scowled as she let go of Jess.

"Because last time you cracked a rib," he reminded her, his voice strangled as he sucked in air.

"Skinny boy breaks too easily," she retorted, and turned to Rory. "He doesn't bring girls here," the woman informed her.

"Well, I'm not a girl, not…one of _his_ girls," Rory told her with a smile. "I'm just Rory."

"I'm Adele, and ain't no _just_ about you, Rory," the woman informed her, sizing her up. She looked over at Jess. "You ordered the chocolate cake for this one?" Before he could answer, she scowled again with irritation, "You didn't, did you. Damn it, Jess, _this_ girl needs some cake!"

"Ah…what?" Rory asked, watching the exchange between them.

Jess rolled his eyes. "Adele, Rory. Rory, Adele. Adele owns the place, and thinks she runs every god-damned thing in the city," he explained.

Rory suppressed a smile. "I see."

"I do run everything in this city," she informed Rory with a grin. "People bow down before me, 'cause I feed them and they can't help it. And then when they're all woozy from the food, I sing for 'em. Even fancy writer-man over here, he comes crawling back for the Hill's chocolate cake. He gets you some of my chocolate cake, it's like a one-way ticket to the bedroom for you two."

Rory flushed and her mouth fell open as Jess groaned, "Jesus, Adele!" He ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed. "This isn't a date. She's a friend. And old friend."

Adele let out a hearty laugh. "Oh I'm just messin' with you, you poor boy. But get this girl some cake," she snapped her fingers at a passing bus boy, who jumped with a respectable amount of fear, and then turned back to the pair. "It's time for me to sing," she told them with a saucy smile.

As she sauntered to the stage, Jess sat down shakily in his chair. "Uh, sorry about that. She's…well…"

"She's great," Rory giggled. "The look on your face was awesome."

"Yeah, your impression of a blow up doll was equally amazing," he countered, mimicking her open-mouthed gape.

"You're so disgusting, I'm not sharing my cake with you," she sniffed before a grin burst across her face.

Said cake arrived at that moment, and Rory gasped. "That has to weigh four pounds," she said, staring in wonder at the gloriously dark, chocolate confection sitting in between them. It sat on a dinner plate, not a dessert plate, and was six layers tall, iced between each layer with a different shade of chocolate icing, and covered with chocolate shavings.

He was pretty sure no woman had ever looked at him the way she was looking at the dessert. "At least. And it's made with lard, buttermilk, and a healthy dose of crack."

"This is like…like…the _Mecca _of cake. Everyone should make the trip once."

He grinned, amused at the reverent look on her face. "I think you're drooling."

"I admit it without shame," she smiled back, and picked up a fork, diving in.

* * *

The music was good, the cake better, and they sat and listened to both the house band, Adele, and sometimes an occasional customer, play or sing. He mentioned that he came here from time to time, when he could, but that he'd practically lived here for a few months while he researched a book that was set in a jazz club. Adele had watched him set up shop in one of her booths for four days before coming over and asking him what the hell he was doing in her club because she knew he wasn't a cop or a huge jazz fanatic. He told her what he was doing and that her club would be the backdrop for his next novel. Only after he proved who he was, a struggling author with a couple of books under his belt, and then ultimately praised to high heaven her chicken Modiga, did she reward him with cake and friendship.

Jess watched Rory casually, glancing over now and then, enjoying her concentration on the music, the atmosphere. A dozen years had gone by, more actually, and here they were, in New York, totally separate lives but still entwined through a marriage. In this club, in his secret hideaway, just hanging out.

He chuckled to himself, and she glanced over. "What?" she asked, a look of confusion on her face.

"Nothing. Just…this."

"What? Dinner?"

"The whole thing," he grinned. "Just never thought we'd be sitting in a blues bar in New York, all this time later. I met you when I was 17. That officially makes you the oldest friend I have."

"Hey, you're older than I am," she told him.

"You know what I mean."

She grinned. "I know. And you're right…I never pictured it either. And…while I hate to be the bearer of bad news, it's getting late."

"No problem," he told her, surprised that he was disappointed it was time for them to go. He shook it off, taking out his wallet and throwing them onto the table. They waved at Adele as they walked out and turned in the direction of her hotel, side by side on the sidewalk that still bustled with New York night life. "You too cold to walk? This area's not too bad. Safe."

She tugged on her jacket. "No, I'm good now, we can walk."

They ambled along for a few minutes before she thanked him for the evening. "I had a good time. Maybe we can catch up before I leave on Sunday?"

He nodded, hands in his pockets. "Yeah, probably. I'm supposed to give Luke a call tomorrow. You and your mom…you're shopping, right?"

"Yeah…I have to get a dress."

"Doesn't wardrobe do that for you?" he teased.

She smacked his arm lightly. "Not this one. This one's special."

"Getting married?" he joked, unnerved at that pull on his heart again.

She wrinkled her nose. "Uh, decidedly not. No, I…I kind of…won an award."

Now his brows raised in appreciation. "Yeah? Congrats. For what, exactly?"

Rory felt herself blushing, and she shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "Um…a Gracie. It's an award for…"

"I know what it is." He stared at her, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, eliciting curses from the people directly behind them. "Rory, that's amazing!" Before he knew what he was doing he reached for her and hugged her, lifting her slightly off her feet. They both froze a bit at the unexpected event before she laughed it off and hugged him back.

"Thanks," she mumbled shyly. "I'm…well, pretty happy about it."

He pulled back from her, ignoring the fact that he'd just hugged her and made them both uncomfortable. "You deserve it," he told her seriously, his eyes on hers, dark and fixed. "That's incredible."

"Thanks," she said again, smiling. "That means a lot, really."

There was a beat, each of them a little unsure what to do, before Jess found his head and gestured in the direction of her hotel. They continued to walk. "So, when's the whole award thing go down?"

"Couple weeks," she told him, "I'll be back here for the event."

This news made him happy, for reasons he couldn't begin to explain. "Yeah? Your mom and Luke going?"

"Not sure. I don't know yet how many tickets I get, and Jack has to be there for sure."

"Jack?" he asked, blessing himself for having the sense not to stop in his tracks at the mention of a male name.

"My cameraman," Rory told him, her face softening.

"Oh…boyfriend?" Damn it…please let that have sounded casual.

Now she laughed. "Uh, no. I'm pretty sure we've covered how pathetically single I am. We've been a team for five years now. But I couldn't do anything without him. You know how in that Robert Redford, Michelle Pfeiffer movie, _Up Close and Personal,_ the cameraman is like Michelle Pfeiffer's best friend and he moves with her from one station job to the next, and he's there protecting her in the prison scene? It's exactly like that. Even the prison thing, actually, now that I think about it," she said thoughtfully. "We even have nicknames for each other after the characters in that movie."

"Pretty sure I've never seen that movie," he told her gruffly, surprising himself with his irritation.

She didn't notice. "Well, her name is Tally-"

"It's _what?_"

Rory ignored him. "And the cameraman is Ned…and Jack and I were stuck on a very long lay over one night, and that was on in an airport bar in Toledo, and we watched it, and…"

"Nicknames," he finished.

"Yeah."

"Ned and Tally." He said, a little disbelieving.

"Yup."

"You're nuts."

She shrugged comfortably. "Probably."

They neared the hotel, and he walked her inside, intending to stop in the lobby. "The fresh air must have given me a second wind," she told him, turning to face him. Her cheeks were pink from the night chill, and her face slightly flushed. He remembered back to days in Stars Hollow, the Winter Festival, freezing nights walking around the town square together, and she always turned this adorable pink when she was cold. "Want to get one last drink in the bar?"

Surprise played over his face. "Sure."

"Just one."

"I don't need convincing."

They headed to the bar, shrugging out of their coats as they walked. Upon entering the crowded room, Jess spotted a table being cleaned off and turned to her to point it out, when he noticed the look on her face. She was staring across the bar, rigid.

"What?" he asked, glancing in the direction of her gaze.

She shook it off quickly. "I thought it was…someone I didn't want to see," she murmured sheepishly and headed to the table, Jess trailing behind her.

"Who?" he asked. "I was joking about the stalker stuff."

"Worse. Logan," she bit out tersely, then gave him that sheepish look again. "Sorry. It _should _be water under a very tall bridge."

He gave the bar another glance but something had hardened in his eyes. "Blonde dick from Yale."

"Yes," Rory confirmed coolly. "I thought he was over there, but it's not him." His clenched-jaw expression was slightly alarming to her. "You okay?" she asked hesitantly.

"Right as rain." His response indicated he was anything but, however, she let it go.

"Okay," she murmured, not slightly convinced.

"So him being here wouldn't be a pleasant reunion," he guessed as they sat.

"Once I was no longer his girlfriend he began treating me like he treats most of the world," she told him tersely.

"Ah. I'm familiar with that."

"I know, and I'm sorry."

Her face reflected genuine regret and he eased off. "I'm pretty sure it's a mutual dislike."

She dared to produce a grin. "As much of a jackass as Logan can be, it's possible I hate his father more."

"Alright," he nodded uncertainly.

Rory sighed deeply. "I hate Mitchum Huntzberger with the depths of my soul."

He sat back and appraised her with his dark eyes. "This is sounds like a story that will involve more than just one drink."

"Mitchum's not a nice person," she told him, as if that explained it all.

He waited, looking at her expectantly. With a roll of her eyes and an exasperated sigh, she went on. "I interned for him in college. He let me work for him for weeks, then informed me that I didn't have what it took to be in journalism. I was, in fact, much more suited to being an office assistant."

Jess raised his eyebrows, irritated. "I think you've proven him wrong about that, Rory. And that was years ago."

"You don't crush people's dreams like that," she protested.

"I'm not saying it was right," he countered. "But it's pretty unlikely that you'd run into him here. I mean...even if Logan, or his dad, lives in the city, there are a million bars."

Rory's frowned and paused in the story long enough for them to order their drinks from the waitress. "Last I heard, Logan was in Stamford, living up the Huntzberger dream. I'm not sure, it changes often and I don't care to keep up. But his family is a giant in media. I run into them from time to time at work stuff, but he'll also be at the stupid award ceremony. And I know that all of my success is on me, not him, not because I had a single hand-out to get me here after college, unlike some spoiled trust fund brats who will never grow up," Jess smirked at that as Rory continued, "I just can't seem to let it go. They still make me feel like a self-conscious child who still has something to prove."

He nodded, and leaned close to her across the table. It was tiny, barely enough room for their drinks and some napkins, and the lack of distance between them was a little unnerving. "Okay, I hadn't really thought about that, that they're tied to the industry, and it sucks. Huge. Does it happen a lot, running into them?"

She shrugged. "You'd think it was more often than it is with the way I'm whining about it right now."

"How do they act when they see you?"

The drinks arrived, and she took more than a well-mannered sip of her Manhattan. "They're ever so polite, in that Emily Gilmore way. You know."

He grimaced. Yes, he knew. "Your grandmother can freeze ice on her ass when she's being polite."

Rory let out a laugh, and he had to smile with a bit of pride for being the cause of it. "I will be using that in a future conversation with my mother."

"It's copyrighted."

Her eyebrows wiggled. "I know the author, I think I can persuade him to let me use it."

"Awfully sure of yourself when it's me, but not so much when it's him?" Jess asked, eyebrow arched as he took a sip of his beer.

"I'm never sure of myself when I'm around you," she commented lightly, and his heart skipped confusingly. "Anyway," she continued, ignoring her comment, "they're Gilmore polite, Huntzberger polite. Logan's more…" she paused, searching for the right word, "_forward _than I'd care for him to be."

The eyebrow went up again. "Meaning?"

"Very curious what I'm doing, leering over whatever I'm wearing, and specifically if I managed to bring a date. Like it's a public competition."

He took a drink casually. What he hoped was casually. "And…do you bring dates?" He asked. Casually.

"Well," she began reluctantly, "Jack is almost always my date. Luckily, his wife is as unexcited to go to media stuff as much as I can imagine any real date of mine would be, so she hands him over happily. She's also fully aware that he's like a brother to me."

"Lucky him."

"I realize that it's petty, trust me," she murmured. "And I want to be above it. Really above it. Skyscrapers above it."

Jess toyed with the small napkin his drink sat on. He hated Logan. He hated that that _prick_ had been able to change Rory so much from the girl he'd loved, even if that had been a phase and she was now mostly back to the person he'd fallen in love with at seventeen. "So, you get your revenge," he said leisurely. "Get some dress that makes the blonde dick want to weep, while you're accepting an award that does the same to his father…though hopefully for different reasons," Jess said simply, but with conviction.

Rory surveyed him for a moment before a smile cracked on her lips. "Makes him weep, huh?"

His brown eyes had heat in them when they met hers…she wasn't sure from what exactly, or why it pulled at something deep inside her. "Whether you're talking about the dress or the award, either way, I have faith it'll prove the point," he murmured.

Her head cocked to the side as she studied him momentarily. "You're a good guy, Jess."

He blinked, then shrugged. "Not always."

She leaned forward suddenly and kissed his cheek, her lips resting against his skin for only the briefest of moments, but long enough that his eyes closed involuntarily and he inhaled her perfume. "You are. I always thought so. Well…almost always," she grinned. "So, thanks for the pep talk."

His cheek burned where her lips has glanced over his skin and he swallowed hard. "You know me…always with the words of encouragement."

She grinned and glanced toward the lobby. "I should get some sleep. Need to be at full strength for shopping with my mom."

Jess nodded dumbly, still not quite sure what had just happened. Rory slid a few dollars out of her purse and sat them on the table for the waitress, before snagging her coat and rising from her chair.

"You staying here?" she asked curiously.

"Oh…no," he stuttered and stood, shrugging on his jacket. "Sorry. Guess I'm tired."

She nodded in agreement and together they headed back into the lobby to stand before the elevators.

"Thanks again for dinner…for everything. I had a great time," she said softly. "So you and Luke are meeting up tomorrow?"

Jess shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, I think we're spending most of the day together…doing what I have no idea. Probably a lot of him gawking at things he sees in the city, and me ensuring he doesn't get clipped by a cab while he's doing that."

"Then maybe I'll see you again?"

"Maybe," he conceded.

"Well, then…good night?"

It came out as more of a question, and they stood in front of each other awkwardly, each of them unsure where exactly to look.

Finally, he leaned in, cursing himself repeatedly as he did so, and lightly kissed her cheek. "Good night, Rory." He hit the Up button for her, and gave her his trademark smirk of a smile before heading toward the hotel entrance.

She stared after him for a moment, still feeling the brush of his lips against her skin before forcing herself to turn and face the elevator doors. Still contemplating why a simple buss on the cheek could bring such heat to her face he called her name and she turned back to face him.

"Send me a picture of you in the dress," he grinned wolfishly.

She chuckled and blushed, and boarded the elevator.


	3. Chapter 3

Curves & Edges  
Chapter 3

By Buffychick

Author's Note: I'm not one for song-fic, mostly I think it's stupid, but this song inspired me, so there you have it.

Inspired by: "All of Me" by John Legend

Author's Note 2: I lost my inspiration with _Regrets and Reason_, and I know how horribly unfair that is. I promise to continue it, but in the meantime, I give you this this peace-offering.

Summary: Almost a decade after the disastrous kiss at Truncheon, Luke & Lorelei are married. Rory is a world-traveling reporter based in Boston. Jess is a successful author recently moved from Philadelphia to New York. When life brings Rory to New York she and Jess reconnect.

* * *

_You still up?_

Jess glanced at the phone beside him on the couch, where he was perched, laptop open, attempting to determine what he'd been thinking when he'd last touched his latest novel-in-progress.

He frowned when he saw it was Rory. Dinner had been fine. A little uncomfortable, awkward at first, but he'd long ago accepted that was the way of them now. He honestly wasn't sure why he'd invited her out. They talked randomly, here and there via email, but the majority of their (still very limited) interactions were through the half dozen times they'd both returned to Stars Hollow for an event or holiday. During those times he had a good time, generally grateful for her presence that kept him from throttling half the town while he was there. She was still easy to talk to, and despite the first minutes being slightly clumsy, filled with self-consciousness they should have long outgrown, they would quickly fall back into routine. Banter, laugh, banter, laugh, argue, banter.

And then they'd leave for their separate corners of the world, to not really speak again until the next arbitrary event. It had become easier, after the wedding when they'd tried to clear the air between them a bit and admit that they were going to see each other. That's when the random emails would come in, she'd liked his Facebook page (which is PR people had set up and he glanced at only once or twice a year), he'd texted her to mention he'd seen her on such-and-such channel reporting from insert-name-of-city-here.

Mostly, he'd tried like hell to get over her, to forget and forgive in a manner he was just not accustomed to, and to move on. To accept that they were Jess and Rory and all they would ever be were two fucked up kids who could never get it together.

And yet, he'd invited her out to dinner when he discovered she was in town. Stupid move? Probably. But he wasn't entirely sure he regretted it. She was familiar, even now. Her mind was incredible, she could keep up with him like no other ever could. And he had tried. God how he'd tried. Tried to find someone who had that spark he'd felt with her the moment he'd tried to convince her to climb out of her bedroom window to escape the first of the hellish Stars Hollow dinners. You were supposed to remember your first love fondly, but eventually get over them. That's how it works. You don't pine for them years after the fact and compare every woman you come across to them, no matter how unconsciously you're doing it.

Sighing, he picked up the phone. Stupid move? Probably.

_Still up. Why are you?_

He sat the phone down and tried to return to his work, when the phone buzzed again almost immediately.

_I have no idea. You?_

_Working._

_Oh, sorry. Interrupting?_

_No, it's fine. I'm stalled._

_I just wanted to…_

…_wanted to?_

_Thank you for dinner._

_You did that, _he pointed out.

_Well, I enjoyed myself enough I wanted to do it again._

He chuckled. _Consider me appropriately thanked._

_I wouldn't be able to sleep without knowing you felt appropriately thanked._

_Glad I could ease your mind._

_I hate hotel rooms,_ she confessed.

He sighed and closed the laptop, setting it on the coffee table and padding his way to his bedroom. Toeing off his shoes he changed into pajama pants and a t-shirt before responding.

_I can imagine you stay in your fair share of them._

_I'm actually grateful I didn't cover the Olympics this year._

He chuckled at that._ Yeah, I hear Sochi had some issues._

_But I might have come home with like ten puppies._

_You? Didn't peg you for a dog person._

_Puppies. Not dogs. Puppies are adorable._

_And they grow into dogs._

_Yeah, it's a problem._

He wasn't really sure what else to say to this, and stared at his phone for a moment, contemplating possible responses or topic changes when she did it for him.

_Anyway, I really just wanted to thank you for dinner (again) and to tell you that…I missed you. I didn't realize how much until tonight. It was fun, and I loved feeling like we might be friends again._

He manipulated words for a living, yet found himself at a loss for them when they mattered most. Eventually, he thumbed over the screen. _I did too. It was long overdue. We make good friends._

_Good night. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow._

_Probably will. Good night._

He lay back on his bed and fumbled for cigarettes on the nightstand, before remembering he hadn't smoked in five years.

* * *

Two weeks later Rory sat at a table of Bar Hamilton in Boston, desperately trying to be interested in Jeremy's conversation. When he'd asked her out the previous week, she'd been shocked. They'd worked together on a few assignments, but barely spoke otherwise, mainly due to conflicting schedules and travel, not because of any animosity. She didn't know him, and frankly, had never really looked twice at him. He was certainly attractive, brown hair cropped close, fairly tan skin, toothpaste commercial smile. There just wasn't any spark. At least, there hadn't been for her. So when the invitation for dinner had been extended, she'd been more than a little surprised.

She toyed with saying no. She should have said no. But instead, she'd told him with a smile that she'd check her calendar and get back to him. Jack had encouraged her to go.

"You never go out," he had said pointedly as they set up to shoot in front of the state capitol.

"I go out," she told him stubbornly.

"No. You work. There's a huge difference."

"I was in New York last weekend," she reminded him.

Jack closed his eyes with a sigh. "To shop, for a _work event_, with your mother. That isn't going out."

"I went out with Jess."

"Which you've insisted wasn't a date."

"I'm starting to question if I need a cameraman right now or if I can just do this myself," she had told him.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Too late. In 3…2…1…"

So she accepted Jeremy's invitation. And Jack was going to pay severely for it. As she listened to Jeremy vapidly discuss his car for the twentieth minute while she feigned interest in…well, _whatever _it was he was describing to her in such intricate, _painful_ detail, she imagined all the ways she was going to hurt her cameraman and best friend.

"I can see cars aren't your thing," Jeremy said finally, grinning like a car salesman as he leaned back in his chair.

Rory blinked, drawn back to the present. "Oh…well, no, I guess not. Sorry. I basically use mine to get back and forth and other than listening to music in it, or to store half my life…it's a car."

"Don't be. What's your thing?" He sat back and sipped on a Scotch, his cufflinks winking in the light overhead.

"Um…work. Books. Music. Movies. You know…" she said simply.

"I love music," he said, perking up.

Rory's eyes held back her surprise. "Yeah? What's your favorite?"

"I'm a slave to Blues Traveler," he confessed with a smile.

"Oh…" Rory's brain when blank and she blinked repeatedly. "Blues Traveler? I didn't know they were still together."

"Oh yeah!" he said excitedly. "I mean, they haven't released an album in two years, but yeah, they tour and everything. I've seen them at least a dozen times." The fact that he said this with pride almost caused her to laugh, but he was quite serious.

She tried,_ strained_ for something, but ultimately she had absolutely nothing to say to that. "So what do you like?" he asked finally, leaning in on his elbows.

"The Clash," she said instantly, and enjoyed when his face fell so quickly it may have hurt. "Moist. Paramore. The Pogues. Metallica. Nirvana, Disturbed, The Ramones, U2, The Police, Radiohead, the Kinks…" She continued because of the thrill she got when he literally winced at the mention of some of the bands.

"You're teasing me," he grinned suddenly, sure of this. "Really. What's your favorite? I'm picturing…Celine Dion or N'Sync or something. One Direction?"

Her eyes widened in horror. "No. Really. I mean, I like a lot of everything. But those are really my favorites. Or, some of them."

Jeremy actually looked disappointed. "Wow. That's…some serious stuff. I mean U2, yeah, they're great. But…not what I expected," he said carefully, then smiled again. "I'm afraid to ask about the books now."

At that moment his phone rang, and he glanced at the caller ID before grimacing. "It's the office," he said apologetically, and excused himself from the table.

Rory sighed with relief and drained her glass of wine, positive she'd have done the same to the bottle if it had been left on the table. Pulling out her phone she debated texting her mother, but ultimately decided against it. Instead her fingers scrolled through her contacts until she found the perfect person who would appreciate what she was going through.

_I'm on a date. His favorite band is Blues Traveler. Kill me._

A moment later, her phone buzzed. _For two people who don't date, it's a weird coincidence that I'm also on a date. And I just learned she celebrates Katy Perry's entire anthology._

She grinned. Jess with a Katy Perry fan was impossibly amusing. _Ah. Clearly the future Mrs. Mariano. Please invite me to the wedding?_

_Only if you promise to stand up and object. Her favorite movie is Twilight. It's also her favorite book._

Rory snorted. _His car is his life. And it's a Buick._

_If my texts stop suddenly it's because I slipped into catatonia._

_Not because you're paying attention to your date instead of texting me?_

_No. And shouldn't you be paying attention to yours?_

_He's on the phone with work. And since his work and mine are the same, I know he has to take it._

_So, I'm guessing not a match made in heaven._

_We're not picking out china, let's put it that way._

_It was a set up, by a friend of a friend, whose opinion I no longer take seriously._

_We work together. The invitation was a surprise. Jack pushed me into it. Apparently he agrees with your assessment that I'm a hermit._

_So you're blaming a bad date on us? Not really fair._

_I blame you for many things, but not this. This is all Jack. And he will pay._

_You'll have to revisit that stuff you blame me for comment later. In the meantime, order something really expensive while he's gone._

She smiled, and slipped the phone back into her purse as Jeremy returned. "Shall we order?" he asked brightly, grabbing the menu.

She hid behind her menu to conceal the grin.


	4. Chapter 4

Curves & Edges  
Chapter 4

By Buffychick

Author's Note: I'm not one for song-fic, mostly I think it's stupid, but this song inspired me, so there you have it.

Inspired by: "All of Me" by John Legend

Author's Note 2: I lost my inspiration with _Regrets and Reason_, and I know how horribly unfair that is. I promise to continue it, but in the meantime, I give you this this peace-offering.

Summary: Almost a decade after the disastrous kiss at Truncheon, Luke & Lorelei are married. Rory is a world-traveling reporter based in Boston. Jess is a successful author recently moved from Philadelphia to New York. When life brings Rory to New York she and Jess reconnect.

* * *

Jeremy dropped her off, and she scrambled from the sacred Buick before he had an opportunity to suggest a goodnight kiss or a second date. Rushing into her apartment, she kicked off her shoes and gratefully slipped into her pajamas. What a truly horrible evening. She'd had bad dates before. She'd had horrible dates. She'd gone out with a guy whose idea of fun had turned out to be monster truck rallies, and considering he was a set up from her grandmother's side of the world it should have been hilariously funny, but instead was disturbing on a number of levels. After two hours of hearing about how Gravedigger was the superior monster truck, she'd bid him goodbye, gotten into her car, and headed to the nearest grocery store for Ben and Jerry's finest.

Settling onto the couch, she checked her email without much enthusiasm and flipped through the TV, settling on _Love Actually_, which had enough humor in it to keep her happy without reminding her of the fact that it was Saturday night and she was alone in her apartment once again. When her phone buzzed with an incoming text, she jumped at the sudden noise.

_She invited me to come back to her place…to watch the Katy Perry movie._

Rory grinned. _OMG. Do you need me to call in a bomb threat or something?_

A pause, then, _No, I set a trash can on fire and escaped amid the chaos._ Followed by, _Seriously, who above the age of 15 willingly watches the Katy Perry movie?_

She padded over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water before settling back on the couch. _I've seen it, but purely for mocking purposes. It's totally mock-worthy, but probably not with someone who worships Katy._

_I barely escaped unscathed. I might even be a little scathed. How do you check for scathing?_

_It goes away. Play Veruca Salt's __Resolver_ _from beginning to end, in order, and call me in the morning._

_Good album._

_Very._

_Did you know Kenny Wayne Shepherd has a new album coming out?_

_No! How did I miss that? He's incredible._

_I know. Learned everything by listening to Stevie Ray Vaughan._

_Which is equal to being taught by Satriani or Slash._

_Slash? If you say so._

_Slash is a God._

_Are you serious?_

She gaped. _Uh, yeah! Are you kidding? Look at his influence on everything. The man has played with literally everyone. I'm pretty sure Les Paul is in heaven, watching him and still learning._

_He's good, but I don't know that I'd say he's Vaughan good._

_What about the Jimmy's Page or Hendrix?_

_Still not budging. Vaughan is my top pick._

_Based on what?_

_Personal preference? Am I allowed to have that?_

She raised an eyebrow and settled deep onto the couch, snuggling against the throw pillows. _You can, but you're wrong, _she shot back.

_I suppose I'll let that go, seeing as this is by far the most enjoyable conversation I've had this evening. Possibly this week._

_Right back at ya._

_So, I'm guessing your date isn't sitting by your side reading all these texts._

_Uh, no. Couldn't get away fast enough._

_I'm pretty sure I left one of those clouds of dust behind me, like in the cartoons._

She giggled. _So, just me, laying on the couch, __Love Actually__ playing in the background because it's all I could find that was decent._

_Good movie, for a chick flick._

_There's porn in it,_ she pointed out.

_If that's what you call porn, I have some teaching to do._

_No thanks. Not really a porn-y girl._

_Which implies you've seen porn? I just can't believe that._

_It's not like it's a habit, or that I've ever watched it alone._

_Well, I wouldn't say I have a habit._

She grinned again._ But you've watched it alone._

_I'm a dude. It's a thing we do._

_This is a weird conversation._

_A bit._

_So, I guess you're not going out with Katy's #1 fan again?_

_LOL. No. Are you going to see the Buick-driving-Blues-Traveler-super-fan again?_

_Only at work, under work circumstances, when it concerns work._

_Have you read Twilight?_

_Yup._

_Are you serious?!_

_Unfortunately. _

_Why, in the name of all that is good and holy?_

Now she laughed._ Because it was popular, and I wanted to know what all the hype was about. It's not like I have it signed or something. Posters in my room._

_That's really not an excuse._

_I didn't say it was a good one. Plus, it really made me want to see the movies, which were just way too fun to watch with my mom and Luke. _

_I would have totally sat through them too if Luke was being trapped into it. That's completely worth it right there. I bet he died a little, didn't he._

_Maybe a couple of deaths, yeah. But then again, I think we all did. I mean, sparkling vampires? Seriously?_

_Nothing's ever __Buffy__, is it._

She nodded appreciatively._ Nothing ever will be. Such a classic show. Campy and cheesy and yet…just awesome._

_Agreed. __Angel __not so much, it was fine, but no __Buffy.__ I loved __Firefly __and __Serenity__, and I even liked __Dollhouse__._

_You just liked Faith being a naked badass all the time._

_Well, yeah. Was there another point in watching it?_

A commercial caught her eye, and she watched its entirety when another text came in._ Did I lose you? Do you have some kind of feminist retort you're preparing for my last remark?_

_No. Sorry. Commercial for __Maleficent __came on and I was distracted._

_Ah. Still girl-crushing on Angelina, huh?_

_You know how I feel about her. And Maleficient. I'm pretty giddy over this movie._

_A girl having a girl crush is really hot, you know that, right? And that your choice is Angelina Jolie makes it doubly hot._

Now Rory blushed, and deeply. _You're disturbed._

_LOL. It's a fact. Like guys and porn._

_Again with the porn._

_Sorry. _

_It's okay._

_So you have a thing for dark-haired badass girls. That's what I'm taking from this._

_Jess!_

_Rory!_

She grinned, then yawned, her eyes heavy._ So what have you been doing since last I saw you?_

_Writing. Editing. The usual. You?_

_Writing. Reporting. The usual. Thinking obsessively about the cheesecake we had at dinner my last night in New York._

_That was some damn fine cheesecake._

_I thought mom was going to make good on her promise to sleep with the chef to get the recipe._

_Luke should have let that happen. Think of the money that could bring the diner if he served that cheesecake._

_I don't know if I'm unnerved or proud that my mother almost sunk into prostitution over cheesecake._

_Oh, I bet you're a little proud._

She smiled, then yawned again. _I should go to bed._

_You're going to bed thinking about porn and Angelina Jolie. And cheesecake._

_No…that's what YOU'RE going to bed thinking about. I'm just going to bed._

_You're probably right. Actually, you're definitely right. _

_Thanks for the proof that you're a red-blooded American boy._

There was a long pause, and she repeated his statement from earlier._ Did I lose you now?_

_No…just thinking. Sorry. Spaced out._

_I lost you to porny thoughts about Angelina Jolie and Eliza Dushku, didn't I._

_You have now. That's a great combination. What else ya got? My fantasies could use some new flavor._

Rory rolled her eyes._ And with that I'm going to bed._

_Seriously, I was just thinking this was nice. Fun._

_Texting with me?_

_Yep. I don't get a lot of people who can argue with me about guitarists._

_Would you rather we talked about Robert Pattison and Kristen Stewart?_

_So…have I told you all about my car and the mileage it gets and the horse-power?_

_Har har. You don't even have a car._

_Why did you text me? Not that I mind. Just seems like a Lorelei or Lane conversation more than me._

She stared at her phone unsure how to answer. Finally, she typedout _I just thought you especially would find it really amusing._

There was a long pause before her phone buzzed again.

_You're back in a few weeks, right?_

_In New York? Yes._

_We should get dinner again._

_We should._

_Adele asked about you._

Rory's eyebrow went up._ What about me?_

_Just if you'd be back._

_What did you tell her?_

_That you would be, and you'd sing on stage._

_You. Did. Not._

_Think of the cake… The cake Rory…the cake…_

_If she heard me sing, she'd take all the cake away. From everyone. Forever._

_It can't be that bad._

_You will never, ever find out._

_Good night, Rory._

_Good night, Jess._

She stared at her phone for a solid minute before finally clicking it off and heading to the bedroom. Plugging it in to charge, she climbed into bed, a smile on her face.

**A/N: Review? Please? It's been a long time since I've written anything, feedback is greatly appreciated.**


	5. Chapter 5

Curves & Edges  
Chapter 5

By Buffychick

Author's Note: I'm not one for song-fic, mostly I think it's stupid, but this song inspired me, so there you have it.

Inspired by: "All of Me" by John Legend

Author's Note 2: I lost my inspiration with _Regrets and Reason_, and I know how horribly unfair that is. I promise to continue it, but in the meantime, I give you this this peace-offering.

Summary: Almost a decade after the disastrous kiss at Truncheon, Luke & Lorelei are married. Rory is a world-traveling reporter based in Boston. Jess is a successful author recently moved from Philadelphia to New York. When life brings Rory to New York she and Jess reconnect.

* * *

Two weeks flew by, and with successful wrangling of her schedule, along with no national or global disasters of which she needed to inform the world, Rory found herself back in New York, a kick dress hanging in the closet of her hotel room, and her mother and Luke down the hall, ready to attend the award ceremony the next evening. It chafed her grandparents to no end that they weren't able to attend as well, and Rory had endured no less than a dozen phone calls from Emily Gilmore blasting the media industry as a whole for not having the good sense to secure more than three extra seats at Rory's table for guests and family.

She picked up the phone on the bedside table and dialed her mother's room.

"I'm here!"

"We're here!" Lorelei responded. "And there isn't a mini-bar big enough to get Luke prepared to wear a suit tomorrow."

"Why do you sound so happy about that?" Rory questioned.

"It's fun to watch him be so uncomfortable? Duh."

"Right, sorry. So, ready to go drink with some of the industry's finest?"

"Like I've been training for this my whole life."

"Is it weird that your alcoholism is kind of inspiring?"

"Hey, Luke wants to invite Jess over. It's just at the hotel bar, right? Open to the public?"

"Yep. No free drinks tonight, just casual mingling."

"You got here late. Got enough time to primp?"

"Traffic from the airport was terrible. I need 30 minutes, but I think I can spruce up enough to make myself presentable for the hotel bar."

"There's the high standard girl I know and love."

Rory snorted. "Meet you down there in 30."

She entered the bar, dressed simply in a black knit dress that stopped above the knee, with three-quarter length sleeves that fell off shoulder, leaving her shoulders exposed. Her hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck in a soft bun, with tendrils falling out in a fashion that appeared natural, but had really taken her fifteen minutes to perfect. A gold cuff bracelet, clutch, heels and a few sprays of her favorite perfume completed the ensemble. She felt pretty. Confident. The appreciative smile Jess was giving her bolstered the feeling.

"Hey," she greeted him.

"Hey." His eyes roamed her body in a way that made her tingle. "You look…nice."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Nice?"

"Really nice," he corrected with a knowing smile. "I'm pretty sure several wives just grabbed onto their husbands a little more tightly."

She giggled. "Well, I'm sure all the women in here are panting after you. You look great," she told him appreciatively, admiring him in his dress pants, collared shirt and sport coat. "Adult Jess knows how to dress."

"We'll leave them all wanting more," he promised, and turned to the bar. "Drink?"

"Martini," she requested, and turned to the room as he ordered. She observed a few people she knew, waved at a couple, nodded at others, then smiled as her mother and Luke walked in, Luke looking decidedly less than thrilled to be there.

"Hey kid!" Lorelei exclaimed, hugging her daughter. "You look nice!"

She grinned and accepted her drink from Jess. "That appears to be all I'm going to get for all this effort."

"What?"

"Nothing," Rory smiled, exchanging a look with Jess.

"Hi Luke, Lorelei," Jess said, turning to his uncle. "Get you a drink?"

"Uh, yeah, I'll get them. Lor?" Luke asked, nudging his wife.

"Martini me please."

"Be right back."

Lorelei grabbed onto his arm. "Oh, I'll go too, you never order it right."

"Because you don't need six olives."

"It's one of the only vegetables I get."

Luke rolled his eyes. "It's pickled, it doesn't count."

"Tomato, tom-ah-to," she retorted as they walked off.

Jess shook his head at the two of them and sipped from the pilsner in his hand, taking a moment to admire Rory's legs and appreciate how much of them were available to the naked eye. She caught him looking and wrinkled her brow. "What?"

He leaned into her intimately, his mouth millimeters from her ear, his breath warm on her skin. "I changed my mind. Nice doesn't cover it. You're gorgeous."

Rory flushed with pleasure as a zing of electricity shot through her. She swallowed hard and took a drink from her glass. "Thank you," she murmured, looking at her feet briefly before her eyes dared to meet his.

As he moved back from her, a small smile on his lips, something caught his attention across the room. Leaning back toward her he said softly, "I don't want to alarm you, but blonde dick just walked in."

Rory stiffened momentarily, then nodded curtly. "Thanks for the head's up."

He watched her for a moment, noticing that she deliberately didn't seek out Logan from across the room, instead concentrating on her drink. "Relax," he ordered gently.

She gave an impolite snort. "I've seen some amazing things, _done_ some amazing things…but knowing that Logan is here, with his current conquest on his arm, and another one, no doubt, waiting in the bathroom to be tapped into the ring, makes me feel like that idiot who fell for him all those years ago."

Jess sighed, and sat his drink on a nearby table before taking hers as well, ignoring her protests. Putting a hand on either shoulder, he looked into her eyes. "You're pissing me off, Rory. You are smarter than all of them, because you saw it. You got rid of him. You didn't _marry_ him. And you're the most impressive woman I've ever known. Stop selling yourself short, because honestly, it's bullshit and I'm not going to listen to it."

She softened a bit, though she still chewed on her bottom lip. With one finger, he placed it on said lip and tugged ever so gently until she released it from her teeth. "You're an adult, a professional, you're beautiful, you're brilliant, and you have more to offer than any other woman in this room. In _all_ the rooms. It was true when we were kids, and it's true now. So stop chewing on your lip, you'll ruin your lipstick. Get your drink, and let's do this thing."

Rory stared at him, touched and slightly stunned, then leaned forward and hugged him. "Thank you," she said softly. "Why weren't you this nice when you were seventeen?"

"I was _seventeen_," he pointed out.

The hug had been brief, friendly, appreciative. But it stirred something in them both and did nothing to ease the confusion. From over Rory's shoulder, he caught the expression on Logan's face as he watched them.

Lorelei and Luke approached then, a mirthful expression on Lorelei's face. "I'm assuming you've seen."

"Logan?" Rory asked, her expression resigned. "Yeah."

"You okay?"

"Yep," she assured her mother. "I'll be okay. Just gearing up for another round of Logan's fun questions."

Lorelei, who was all too familiar with Logan's immaturity when he came across Rory, frowned. "Want me to have Luke punch him?" she then asked helpfully, almost eagerly.

"Wait, what?" Luke asked at hearing his name.

"You're going to fight Logan for Rory's honor," his wife informed him.

"Wait, what?" Luke repeated, confused, glancing from Lorelei to Rory, and finally to Jess.

Jess held up his hands. "Don't look at me, stud."

"Fisticuffs aren't necessary," Rory assured her stepfather. "I can handle it. Now, excuse me, I'm going to use the restroom."

The threesome watched her walk away, and Luke leaned in to speak softly. "For the record, I'm totally fine with laying out that little punk," he clarified.

"Why does she let him get to her so much?" Jess wondered. "She was always too good for him. She still is."

"And he knows it. She was the trophy he didn't get, so he plays on what he remembers to be her insecurities," Lorelei told them bitterly. "He had quite the just-a-gigolo reputation before they got together, and during one of their breaks he pretty much slept with most of his sister's bridal party to, you know, cure his sadness at losing Rory. It wrecked her confidence. Logan's the first guy who ever made her feel not good enough."

Jess sipped his beer quietly, letting this sink in. "Stupid."

"Really stupid," Luke agreed angrily. "That guy's a complete ass. Always was. How'd he decide he's any better than a Gilmore? Especially that _particular _Gilmore."

"He comes by it honestly. His parents are Satan and…whoever Mrs. Satan is. Remember?" she asked her husband. "The whole 'Rory's not good enough for Logan' thing? Not to mention Mitchum basically dissolving all of Rory's confidence about becoming a reporter?"

"Okay, I get that they did a number on her," Jess began, "and it led to the whole shame spiral she went down for a year. But it was seven years ago. She picked herself up, went back to school, became successful."

"And, get over it, right?" Lorelei nodded. "I think she's mostly is, really. I don't think she even thinks about it all the much until she's confronted by any of them face to face. If they didn't work so hard at making her uncomfortable or at embarrassing her, it probably wouldn't even be an issue. The amount of childish behavior between Logan and his father is astounding."

Luke chimed in, "And this comes from a woman who drank a Red Bull an hour during the last 24-hour dance marathon to ensure she beat Kirk, and when she did, had the trophy mounted to her car and drove it around the town square with "We are the Champions" blaring out of the speakers. For two solid hours."

"I vibrated for 3 days from the sugar," Lorelei remembered fondly.

Jess's gaze was steely. "That's ridiculous. Both the Red Bull thing and this," he clarified. "They need to grow up. Or someone needs to kick both of their asses."

Lorelei nodded appreciatively. "True, but I thought we agreed Luke would be handling that portion of tonight's entertainment."

"What exactly do they do?" he wanted to know. "To Rory, to embarrass her or whatever. I just seriously can't wrap my head around the idea of a middle-aged man and his trust fund-sucking-offspring being this dedicated and petty to a girl who hasn't been part of their lives in almost a decade."

Lorelei smirked and patted his hand. "Sweetie, this is honestly _nothing_. High society grudges are _nothing _like normal society grudges. They will last for a lifetime, and will be kept up with such enthusiasm and creativity you would actually applaud if you weren't so busy being embarrassed for them. Rich people are generally bored people. This is their entertainment. It's a game."

They quieted as Rory returned, picking up her drink and draining it. "Anyone want another?" she asked.

"If your plan is to get wasted in an I'll-show-him manner, I can tell you from personal experience it will not end the way you're envisioning it right now," Lorelei told her.

"Just steeling myself," Rory said with a small smile. "And I have no plan, other than to get through this evening."

"This is your weekend," Jess pointed out. "You're getting the award. Not him. He has nothing to do with this anymore. Stop caring what he thinks and enjoy it."

"Doing my best."

"So, Jess," Lorelei said suddenly, changing the subject. "How's life in New York?"

He recognized the intentional transition and gesturing to a nearby table, took a seat, Lorelei and Rory following suit before Luke ambled back over with menus to share. "It's good," Jess told her. "My apartment's not in a terrible area of town, better than what I'm used to. I'm not one for decorating, but it's got all the essentials. Bed, stove, washer and dryer."

"And the new book? Still out in a couple months?" she asked as she read over the food options.

Rory looked at him with interest. "I loved the last one, if I never told you."

He smiled, embarrassed. "Thanks. Glad to hear it. It's doing well. I'm actually going to be on _Good Morning America_ next week to discuss it."

Her eyebrows raised appreciatively. "Nice."

He shrugged. "Not my thing, but essential, according to my publisher. I'd love nothing more than to just hole up in my apartment and write and be published without having to go through all of it…but it's the life I chose, I guess."

"Why did you go back to New York again?" Rory asked. "I can't remember. Couldn't you write in Philly?"

Jess nodded. "I could. But the publisher and my editor are in New York. Lots of back and forth, got tired of it. It was easier to just be there. Maybe someday, if it keeps going well, I can afford to not tour or promote endlessly, but for right now…"

"Slave to the road."

"The last book was great," Luke told him sincerely. "They're all great."

Jess's eyes shifted to his uncle and he shook his head with a smile. "It still always surprises me that you read them. Or, read in general."

Lorelei snickered and Luke glared. "Well, it's no Mad Magazine, but I managed to keep up."

"What are you working on now?" Rory wanted to know, leaning in on the table. "Anything?"

"Trying to," he shrugged. "Sometimes it comes easier than others. Now isn't one of those times."

She understood, and said so. "And having an editor breathing down your neck doesn't exactly will the words to come."

He nodded again and changed the subject off of him. "What about you? Are you ever in one place for more than a few days?"

"No," Lorelei answered sternly without looking up from the menu.

Rory threw her a mock-irritated glance. "Not usually. Field reporting is more exhausting, but also more thrilling, than I ever imagined. But I'm not entirely sure how everyone does it…as a career, I mean. I don't know how you can have a relationship or kids or anything living like this."

Now Lorelei glanced up at her curiously. "You're thinking about having kids?"

"What? No," Rory confirmed vehemently. "I mean, not right now. But look at all the great reporters out there. Even if you have a steady show, like_ Good Morning America_, you still go on assignment and cover things all over the world. I just really get now how hard that must be."

The waitress appeared at that moment, and orders were placed. The music changed and Lorelei perked up, smiling cunningly at her husband. "I love this song," she told him.

"Mmhm."

"Dance with me."

"What? No."

"Come on."

"No."

"Please?"

"No.

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

Jess groaned. "Oh my God. Just go dance already."

Luke turned to his nephew with betrayal on his face. "Only if you do."

"Fine."

The plan had backfired, and it was clear on Luke's face that wasn't the answer he'd expected. Jess rose from his chair and offered Rory his hand. "Dance?" he asked.

She stared at him with a mix of amusement and speculation on his face, but took his hand. "Sure."

"Traitors!" Luke called after them as they wandered off, a moment later pulled to his feet by Lorelei and dragged in the same direction.

Jess took Rory in his arms. "Don't take this the wrong way," she said over the music, "But…you dance?"

"I sway," he corrected.

Rory erupted in a throaty laugh, her head thrown back. It was thrilling to see, and shot hot liquid through him, compounded when he confirmed that Logan had seen her laugh and was clearly not happy about it. "I'll try to keep up," she grinned.

Maybe he was cut out to be rich, because the vindication that shot through him at Logan's displeasure was delicious. "Want to have a little fun?" he asked her, arms around her back, holding her to him.

"I don't know if I can handle more fun than swaying," she chuckled.

"Logan is really unhappy that you're dancing with me."

She frowned. "So?"

"Make it interesting."

"Meaning?"

His hand trailed down her spine intimately. "The way I see it…you could use a little confidence boost, although for the life of me I can't figure out why. And I am such a good friend, I'm willing to help."

"I'm really not following any of this."

"Make him jealous," Jess instructed.

Rory blinked once, then laughed. "There is a petty sixteen year old girl inside you," she admonished through her giggles.

Jess moved close, his mouth next to her ear, and the proximity made her skin tingle. "That dress is a good start-I can't imagine what tomorrow's dress looks like if this is just the prelude-but I bet there are plenty of other ways to display just how happy and content you are with your life, since he refuses to think you could be any of those things without him in it."

"I don't care what he thinks…" she began, then faltered. She did care. Stupid and childish it may be, but she cared. "But isn't that sinking down to his level?"

Jess shrugged. "We spend every other day being virtuous. We can risk it."

"You _didn't_ just refer to yourself as virtuous," she smirked.

"It's a hard term to live up to, but I do my best. Besides, I'm just doing you a favor."

Rory's eyes narrowed. "Yes, I'm sure you wouldn't get any satisfaction out of making him uncomfortable."

Jess grinned. "I'm not ashamed to admit that I would love to hit him rapidly in the face for several consecutive hours. With a hammer." She giggled, and he continued. "Come on. Let's pretend we're small-minded, significantly bored, rich people."

"I'm tempted to say yes, only to see where this goes," she admitted.

"Think of it like a night of surprises. _What will Jess do next!?_"

She shook her head, then tucked her chin on his shoulder as they danced.

"He was an ass that night in Hartford. I know," Rory murmured against his ear, remembering the only encounter Jess and Logan had ever had. "It was just the beginning of the end. Honestly, if you hadn't been there…if you hadn't talked sense into me, I'd probably be married to him right now. Or…actually, I'd probably be collecting alimony from him if I'm being truthful. We were never going to work."

He said nothing as they continued to sway against each other.

"It's for the best. But…sometimes I'm lonely. You know?" she asked him softly, not really expecting an answer.

He waited a beat before pulling back to look at her. "Yeah…I know."

Her head tilted to the side slightly. "What was your last serious relationship?"

He jerked a shoulder. "Shelby…a year ago. Went out on a couple first dates after that, maybe one second date, but…the writing's hard. Hard on a relationship."

She gave a mirthful snort. "Tell me about it. Ryan…the guy I dated on and off for a while… he never understood how the writing can take over your head. Until it's right, until the whole story is told to your satisfaction. I'd lose myself for hours in the early days, perfecting a piece. It drove him nuts."

He understood perfectly, only for him he'd lose _days_, not just hours. He'd come out of it to realize that he hadn't slept in 36 hours, much less eaten anything decent or seen sunlight, and find a handful of messages from Shelby, or whoever it was at the time, that grew increasingly irritated in tone and in wording as time went on while he was under the spell of a story. "There's nothing to writing," he murmured. "All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."

Rory nodded. "Wait…oh God. Still with the Hemingway."

"Well, there's speculation on the exact words, and who actually said them first, but it's a good quote. And true."

She couldn't argue with that, much as she wanted to. They swayed in silence for a moment, and Rory's eyes found her mother and Luke swaying identically to her and Jess, talking sweetly with each other.

"He's watching you," Jess murmured near her ear, causing goose-bumps to rise on her skin.

"Hm?" she asked, almost forgetting what they were supposed to be doing with this dance, so natural it felt to be there with Jess.

"Dick, which is what I'll be calling him from now on, just for the record. He's watching us. It's…entertaining."

She waited for them to naturally sway in a circle to see for herself. Subtly she let her eyes roam around the room, just casually observing the crowd, when she found him. He was talking to someone else, but his eyes flicked to her and Jess once, then again when he noticed that she was looking back. He raised a drink in her direction as a greeting. She quirked her eyebrows, but gave no other indication of recognition.

"Feel any better?" Jess asked, leaning back a bit to look her in the eye.

"I guess," she admitted. "I've never been very good at revenge."

"You're too pure for that," he agreed.

"I'm not pure!" she protested.

"Only like the driven snow," he countered sincerely. "Except for the withering stare, which I hear is formidable but have still yet to see, you are about as threatening as Bambi."

"You don't have to threaten people to get revenge," she reminded him.

He chuckled. "Beating them up usually does the trick, but I can't see that from you either."

"There are other ways," she insisted. "Feminine wiles can go a long way, my friend."

His lips pursed, amused. "Feminine wiles?"

Rory's chin shot out indignantly. "The power of a female is vastly underestimated."

"Yeah?"

Her smile turned wicked and she wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck, bringing their noses millimeters from each other. "Like right now…I could prove you wrong with very little effort. Which would both get revenge on you for the pure comment, and, if your theory about Logan still being affected by me is correct, it would probably have an effect on him well."

Her suggestive tone has his heart rate speeding up. "I may have to subject myself to this just to find out how dangerous you really are," he said huskily, suddenly finding his breath coming a little too quickly.

Her fingers moved to his hair, teasing the nape of his neck, and her lips brushed his teasingly. Shifting her body, she moved a leg between his, rubbing her thigh against him provocatively. "Dancing close like this…my arms wrapped around you…my mouth so close to your ear, your neck…close enough to nibble on…" she breathed against his ear. "I seem to recall you really enjoyed a little ear nibbling."

Jess swallowed and his eyes closed briefly as his body reacted against him. "Ah…yeah…"

"Too bad we're in the middle of this dance floor," she continued, her breath hot against his skin. She nipped his ear with her teeth and he gasped. "It's so…public."

She ground against him gently, and chuckled when he grunted softly. Pulling back from him, she smiled at the confusion on his face. She crooked a finger at him, beckoning. He followed stupidly.

"Well, that was…something," Lorelei observed as they left the floor.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" Luke asked gruffly, his face red with embarrassment.

Jess swallowed. "Ah…Rory was explaining the power of feminine wiles to me."

"The entertainment value was too good. I got to watch both Jess _and_ Logan squirm," Rory clapped her hands gleefully.

"In my day, we called that being a tease," Luke told her pointedly, and Rory's mouth fell open in shock.

Lorelei smirked. "You'll have to forgive Luke. He doesn't realize feminine wiles are what I used to trap him."

"I'm ignoring whatever the hell it is you're talking about." Luke growled. "They're in public! And also, you're not a couple! Wait…right?"

"Not a couple," Rory assured him. "It was just…"

"Logan's here," Lorelei explained. "And I'm guessing the vertical lap dance was part of some warped plan to make him a little crazy with jealousy."

Luke gaped. "And you're okay with this?"

Lorelei shrugged. "I wouldn't go straight to okay, but I do know the entertainment factor in driving an ex crazy."

"You're adults," Luke said tersely to his nephew and stepdaughter.

"You married my influence," Rory pointed out.

He grunted and pointed a finger at her. "Had I only gotten to you sooner," Luke told Rory, "I might have had a chance to make one of you respectable."

"I'm pretty sure it's genetic," Lorelei said soothingly, rubbing him arm. "You can't blame yourself."

"I _don't _blame myself!"

"Relax, Luke," Jess said with a smirk. "We were taking a dip in the shallow end of the pool just to give that trust-fund prince a little trouble. No harm, no foul." Except for the racing heart and suddenly incredibly tight pants…

Luke ran a hand through his hair. "I need another beer."

"Another martini, please!" Rory requested sweetly.

"I could use another," Jess added, looking expectantly at his uncle.

Luke glared at them both and stormed off to the bar. Lorelei smirked at them both. "I'll go help him, I suppose, though at some point in the evening, I'd actually like to, you know, spend time with you?"

Rory grinned and nodded.

"No pelvic thrusts while I'm gone," she warned them both, "And don't eat my food if it ever shows up." Once again she turned after her husband, heading to the bar.

Jess let out a shaky breath and turned to Rory. "That was unfair," he accused. "I don't even want to know where you learned that."

She gave him her best innocent expression and tilted her head inquisitively. "I don't know what you mean. Clearly I'm too pure to have done anything wrong."

Jess snorted. "My ass."

"Aw," she lamented, "I didn't even _touch _your ass."

"I concede," he told her, hands held up in surrender. "Feminine wiles get the point."

She poked him in the chest lightly. "Big old man can't take it."

"Watch it with the _old_ stuff."

"Big _tough_ man can't take it," she amended, fingering the collar of his shirt, flirting shamelessly.

He raised an eyebrow at her and suddenly grabbed her wrist, yanking her so she landed against his chest, enjoying it far too much as her eyes widened in surprise and a gasp escaped her lips. "Careful," he warned, his voice low, his eyes full of heat. "At some point I might quit playing."

She let out a breath as she stared. "This was your game," she reminded him shakily.

"So I can change the rules?" he asked softly.

Her mouth went completely dry and she blinked rapidly. "Um…"

Back in control of himself, he dropped her wrist and let her ease back from him. "Male wiles work just as well, I see," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Rory!" a voice came from behind them, and Jess watched her eyes close in defeat, then quickly recover.

She turned slightly as Logan approached, a redhead hanging on his arm in a dress that indicated she _was _fully aware of what feminine wiles could manage. "Logan," she greeted him, without emotion.

"How are you? Long time, no see," he said, wrapping an arm around the waist of his date.

"I'm fine, you?" she asked politely. "In town for the awards?"

He grinned and Jess wanted to punch him. "Yeah, dad dragged me up here. Oh, sorry…where are my manners…this is Layla," he introduced his date.

The redhead frowned. "Lisa," she corrected him.

"Lisa, right, my bad," Logan apologized cockily, and turned expectantly to Jess. "And you are…"

Jess said nothing, just stared back at the asshole before him.

"Jess," Rory reminded Logan with temper. "You've met before, and you know that."

Logan's brow furrowed briefly in recollection. "We have? Sorry dude. No offense." He offered his hand.

"It wasn't memorable," Jess told him icily, refusing the handshake.

Logan looked down at his hand, and grinned again, taking back the offer. "Hey man, I'm just saying hi to an old flame. Right, Rory?"

"And you've said it," Rory responded coolly, her eyes like stone.

The redhead glanced between the three of them, completely unsure of what was going on. "Ah…I'm going to use the restroom, okay Logan?"

Logan didn't spare Lisa a glance. "Yeah, sure," he told her absently, his eyes never leaving Rory. "So, Rory…things are looking up in a way?" He looked around the bar. "I don't see the formidable Jack around…just…this," he eyes flicked back to Jess. "Are you on a date?"

Rory gave him a look of annoyance. "Excuse me?"

Logan blinked, a hurt expression on his face. "Hey, Ace, I'm just happy for you if it is, in fact, a date. Which we haven't established. So I don't know if I should be happy for you. Should I be happy for you, Ace?"

"Stop calling me that," she warned him.

"It's a date," Jess confirmed, his voice even. "Or, it would be, if you'd excuse yourself."

"Hey, that's great! Good for you, Rory!"

"Is he kidding with this? Did he always treat you like a third grader?" Jess asked her incredulously, before turning to Logan. "Do you want to slap a gold star on her forehead? Get lost, Huntzberger. I'm officially warning you."

Logan's expression darkened. "I think you'll find Rory has few complaints about how I treated her," he murmured absently, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. Rory twisted out of his reach, repulsed.

Jess's jaw tensed. "Your definition of few, and mine, are vastly different."

Logan gave Rory a lazy smile. "Aw, Rory…been talking about me with the new lover?"

Rory rolled her eyes. "Logan, leave."

"Now now, no need to get all upset you two. I'm just making friendly conversation," Logan grinned again, and Rory wanted to slap him.

"The lady asked you to leave," Jess warned him, his voice dropping low.

"I'm not finished talking," Logan snapped back, his eyes suddenly angry, then suddenly they cleared a bit. "Wait a minute…I remember you now. The great American author, right? You had that cute little paperback book. Rory read some of it to me one night, in bed," he confided suggestively.

Jess's face remained blank. "When she's in bed with me, there's little time to read."

Rory gaped at him, but Jess ignored her.

"No, I remember. It was cute. A good effort. How'd that work out for you?" Logan asked Jess.

"Well enough," Jess told him lightly.

Logan's face twisted into an expression of compassion. "Oh man, I'm sorry to hear that. Back to waiting tables? Don't worry. It just so happens, I know a few people in publishing. Maybe I can give you my card or something. Be glad to help you out."

"Logan!" Rory snapped, rising to her feet before Jess could say a word. "Enough! I'm sick of this! This pathetic display, and all the ones before it! You _weren't good enough_ for me, and that just _eats_ at you, doesn't it? And being the petty, selfish _asshole _that you are, you have to try to find_ something_ to lord over me to make yourself feel better because _I _turned _you_ down? Well,_ fuck you._ No more."

Both men stared at her, along with Lorelei and Luke who had just come up behind them. "Jess, we're leaving. Mom, Luke, I'll see you in the morning."

Grabbing her clutch and Jess's hand, she pulled him toward the door.

"Ace, hey," Logan followed after her, laughing, when Rory whipped around and punched him smack in the face, knocking the blonde to the ground as the crowd scattered.

She stood over him as he stared at her, dazed, a small trickle of blood dripping from his nose, her blue eyes positively flashing with anger. "I warned you not to call me that again," she told him, seething. "Stay away from me. And the next time you want to know how Jess is doing, take a look at the first ten slots of the New York Times Best Seller's list, you pathetic prick."

Jess stood in total and utter shock, much like the entire congregation of bar patrons. Outside of the music, still pumping loudly over the speakers, it was silent. Until Lorelei began to laugh uncontrollably.

**A/N: I love the end of this chapter. What about you? Tell me in a review!**


	6. Chapter 6

Curves & Edges  
Chapter 6

By Buffychick

Author's Note: I'm not one for song-fic, mostly I think it's stupid, but this song inspired me, so there you have it.

Inspired by: "All of Me" by John Legend

Author's Note 2: I lost my inspiration with _Regrets and Reason_, and I know how horribly unfair that is. I promise to continue it, but in the meantime, I give you this this peace-offering.

Summary: Almost a decade after the disastrous kiss at Truncheon, Luke & Lorelei are married. Rory is a world-traveling reporter based in Boston. Jess is a successful author recently moved from Philadelphia to New York. When life brings Rory to New York she and Jess reconnect.

* * *

Rory stalked to the elevators and punched the button. He glanced at her from time to time, watching her fume as she rubbed her extremely red knuckles, her breath coming explosively as she attempted to calm down. He wasn't positive she even realized he was there. When the elevator opened, they stepped in together, and she hit the button for her floor. He didn't bother to point out that he wasn't staying in the hotel, fairly confident now was not the time for logic.

The door opened on her floor and she stomped down to her room, jamming the key card into its slot and bursting into the hotel room.

He followed tentatively and watched as she ripped off her shoes and flung them across the room, then went back to rubbing her hand.

Suddenly, she turned to him as if just now realizing she wasn't alone. "I hit him," she said wondrously, her eyes wide, pupils dilated.

Jess let out a breath, still in shock, and slid his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. "You sure did."

"I can't believe I did that."

"I don't know if it's possible for me to agree more with that sentiment."

"He's such an asshole."

He gave an appreciative nod. "My last statement stands."

"My hand hurts."

Now his eyes held concern. "I bet. Are your knuckles bleeding? Wiggle your fingers." He moved to her and took her hand in his, turning it over gently. "Good thing you kept your thumb on the outside, or it would be broken right now," he told her. "Gimme a sec. I'll get you some ice."

She nodded absently. He snagged the key card off the bed where she'd dropped it, and the ice bucket and liner bag the hotel had supplied. He was gone only a moment, and when he returned the liner was filled with ice, the bucket containing more if needed. Rory hadn't moved. He guided her to the couch and sat next to her, placing the compress over her bruising knuckles.

"Can I say something?" he asked quietly after a moment.

She nodded. "Sure."

"That was fucking _awesome_."

Rory looked up at him. Jess was grinning, a smile she hadn't seen in more than a decade. After a moment, she returned the smile, which turned into a chuckle, and evolved into side-splitting laughter.

His grin widened, watching her. "Gilmore…you are full of surprises, I'll give you that."

"I guess feminine or male wiles just won't always do the trick," she gasped with a broad smile.

He shifted the bag of ice on her hand, still grasping it within his own. "I had no idea you had that in you."

"Neither did I," she confessed.

"You might be my new hero."

She giggled. "Jack will be so mad he missed this. He hates Logan as much as I do."

"When's this famous Jack getting here anyway? I want to shake his hand. He has good taste."

She chuckled. "Tomorrow morning. You'll like him. He'll like you."

"Maybe I can date _him_."

"You'll make a cute couple." She pulled her hand from his and inspected it. "I think it's okay."

"Wiggle your fingers?" he requested again.

She obliged, wincing slightly. "I just can't believe I hit him."

"Lisa is probably running through the hotel, trying to thank you."

"You mean Layla?" she smirked.

"He's a piece of work," Jess grimaced.

"That he is."

He patted her hand gently. "I think you'll live."

"Thank you doctor," she said solemnly.

He looked her in the eye. "Your hand is okay. What about you?"

She considered. "I'm…fine. A little shaky. Probably a lot keyed up, but if I got in bed right now, I think I'd pass out for about 2 days."

"Coming down off the adrenaline high can be a bitch," he agreed.

"Does this happen to you?" she asked, surprised.

"What?"

"Getting a buzz after a fight."

Rory's eyes were so round, the question so completely innocent, he chuckled. "Exactly how many fights do you think I get in?" he asked, amused.

Her cheeks pinked slightly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to imply you do this a lot anymore. I meant when you were younger. After all, you _are_ all virtuous these days."

"Like a priest," he commented, then reconsidered. "Actually, that's probably no longer a good comparison."

Rory laughed. "Definitely not."

"Yes…it's the adrenaline thing, like I said," he told her easily. "But these days, I'm a lover, not a fighter. Not much action."

"Outside the bedroom, right?" she quipped, then slapped her hand over her mouth, eyes widening, appalled at what she'd said. In doing so, pain shot through her hand and she winced, crying out and cradling her hand.

"Oh, you idiot," he grinned sadly, placing the bag of ice back on her hand, trying not to laugh.

"I am!" she moaned, gripping her hand and the bag.

"You need aspirin."

"Bathroom. Travel bag," she whimpered, and padded to the bed, crawling up and onto it before collapsing against the pillow.

He chuckled, though not without sympathy, and headed to the bathroom. "Uh," he called upon seeing the six different cases strewn around the bathroom vanity. "Which one in your arsenal is the travel bag?"

"Pink and white stripes," she replied, her voice muffled.

He rolled his eyes, located the bag, and found the aspirin. Dumping three into his hand, he unwrapped a disposable cup and filled it with water. When he returned, she was curled up, surrounded by a mountain of pillows, looking very small in the king sized bed. He really tried to ignore that her dress was pushed up and exposing her legs up to her thighs. Really tried.

"You're all pathetic and sad," he told her with a smile.

"Shut up and bring me the aspirin," she growled good-naturedly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Cranky patients don't get the good, pain-relieving drugs."

"Aw…come on…I was defending your honor," she pleaded without looking up or opening her eyes, extending out her good hand for the aspirin.

Jess held them just out of her reach. "I've never been the damsel in distress," he commented. "It's kind of fun. I'm all tingly inside. Is this what it's always like to have a fierce protector?"

Rory snuggled deeper into the pillows. "How should I know? Men aren't even looking at me these days, much less fighting over me. Now, give me the aspirin." Eyes still closed, she shook her hand to receive the pills.

"Well, if you're going to ask so nicely," he said lightly, and moved closer to her though still out of reach.

The one eye visible to him popped open when no pills were dropped into her palm. She cast her gaze to Jess. "I already punched out one guy tonight…don't make me do it again," she warned.

Jess smirked. "You're feisty after a fight."

"You're depriving an injured woman of pain-relieving medication. I _should _punch you, in the name of common decency."

"Yup, definitely feisty."

She lay there for a moment before opening her eyes again and looking over at him. "Please give me the aspirin," she pouted sadly, her lower lip trembling slightly.

"Oh, don't do that," he objected, hands up in surrender.

Her eyes widened in mock innocence. "You told me you're not afraid of me, physically. I have to resort to other measures."

He gave her a look. "Puppy dog eyes and pouting lower lips are fighting dirty."

"Hey, it could be the feminine wiles again, if I thought that would do it," she murmured, her eyes closing again.

He said nothing, just gazed at her, considering. "You have to use whatever's most effective, I suppose," he said after a moment, his voice deepening noticeably.

Rory's eyes opened slowly, locking with his. Neither spoke until he finally cleared his throat and sat down, handing her the aspirin and cup of water. Shifting to sit up, she accepted them, her heart racing for unknown reasons.

"Thanks," she said after a minute.

"You're welcome."

"I thought you were going to make me work for them," she said, smiling softly.

"I was considering it. But clearly feminine wiles aren't something to mess around with," he said casually.

She tried to laugh it off, gazing uncomfortably at her hands. "I somehow doubt anything I could do would be your downfall."

Jess snorted softly. "You've always been my downfall."

Rory stilled. Swallowing hard, she dared to look up at him, and when she did, his gaze was uncertain…but there was something behind it.

Hesitantly, he inched his hand over to hers, entwining their fingers. She watched it happen like it was in slow motion, marveling at the touch.

"When are you going back to Boston?" he inquired softly, lacing his fingers with hers.

"Uh…Monday." Her heart rate picked up. _What was going on here?_

"What time's the thing tomorrow night?"

"Eight."

"You going to be okay with it?"

"Oh…yeah," she said slightly breathlessly. "Sure. I mean…I doubt it will be as exciting as tonight was…"

He snickered. "I hope not… I won't be around to witness it."

She smiled. "If a fight breaks out, I'll be sure to have someone on standby for video."

They sat in silence for a minute, then two, his thumb gently brushing over her hand while waves of electricity shot between them both.

"Jess?" she asked finally.

His eyes slowly raised to hers. She met his gaze, questioning in her eyes and no answers in his, just the same unsureness and slight amazement.

"I…should probably go to bed," she mumbled, "big day tomorrow and all, but it's like 9:00 and I'm not sleepy."

He blinked. "Oh…yeah. You've had quite a night," he said, standing suddenly.

"Unless…"

He looked back at her. "Hm?"

She struggled with the question in her mind before finally plunging forward. "Want to watch a really expensive in-room movie and order food?" she asked.

Their eyes held for what seemed like an eternity. This was likely a hugely bad idea. More than likely, if he was honest. Finally, he raised an eyebrow at her. "No Indian food. I pick the movie."

"I'm the injured one!" she protested with a laugh, tension relieved.

He toed off his shoes and flopped onto the bed, grabbing the room service menu from the nightstand. "Which means your decision making skills have been compromised. You need me."

She eyed his dress pants and shirt. "Would you rather go home so you can change and be a little more…you?"

He shrugged. "Not a big deal."

"Actually…could we?" she asked.

He looked at her, confused. "Change?"

"Yes. No. I mean, yes, but could I change, and then we could go to your apartment, and watch a movie there? And you can change too," she grinned graciously.

Jess stared at her. "Um…it's a disaster," he began.

Now that the idea had taken hold, she couldn't shake it. "I don't care," she declared. "I've never seen it, and…I just really don't want to be in a hotel room right now. It reminds me of how much I don't really have a home."

"You have an apartment."

"Which pretty much feels like a hotel room for as often as I'm there, but without the luxury of maid service." She got up on her knees, pleading in her eyes. "Please? I promise not to judge any amount of dust, dirty laundry, piles of mail…whatever. I just…really want to be in a home tonight. Not a hotel room. At least, for a couple hours."

It was useless to resist those eyes. Always had been.

"Alright…come on. But I'm warning you. It's not cozy, or decorated, or…possibly even that sanitary," he relented with a laugh. "But if it means that much to you, fine."

"Your movie selection has to be better, and cheaper," she grinned, bouncing on her the bed on her knees.

He chuckled at the sight. "You're insane, you know that? Cute, but insane."

She blushed and scrambled off the bed. "Five minutes and I'll be ready to go," she called over her shoulder as she grabbed a bag and sailed into the bathroom.

* * *

He was glad he hadn't placed a bet on that five minutes because true to her word she appeared in some kind of black stretchy pants and a sweatshirt a moment later, and slid into athletic shoes. The dress had been great, showing off her yards of legs…but the pants were sinful in their own right. Particularly when she bent over to pick up her purse and he got an enjoyable view of her hind end.

"The hair really makes the outfit," he smirked, looking at the updo she hadn't bothered to pull down.

"That's what all the magazines say," she commented lightly, uncaring, and grabbed her coat and bag.

Texting her mother from the elevator she assured Lorelei that she was fine, and that she and Jess were going to go get something to eat and watch a movie. "Mom says Lisa came back, saw Logan on the ground, laughed, saluted my mother, and walked out," she reported with a grin.

Jess laughed. "I'm telling you, we might want to get to know this girl. She seems like our people."

The door opened and they crossed the lobby and exited. "Cab?" she asked, shivering against the cold February air.

"Yeah," he nodded, glancing over her shoulder subtly steering her toward him. "Cold?"

"A little."

He slid his arm around her shoulders, rubbing them, and she looked up at him in surprise, but then caught his gaze down the street. Turning, she cursed under her breath. "I hoped he'd gone home."

"He should have," Jess muttered.

"Just ignore him," she said against his shoulder, realizing happily that his arm was still around her.

"Love to," he sighed, "but I don't know that he's following your advice."

She looked over and Logan was headed their way, stalking toward them with hatred in his eyes.

"We need to talk," he spit at her, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her away from Jess.

"No, we don't," she snapped, pulling her arm free.

"Pretty sure she said it all back in the bar," Jess commented lightly.

Logan's eyes flicked to Jess's. "This is between me and her," he warned.

"Oh, I'm involved now," Jess corrected, his voice even. "Besides, if she's going to kick your ass again, you can be sure I want to watch."

Logan's nostrils flared with anger. "Screw off, Kerouac. Rory, I'm warning you."

"Warning me about what, exactly?" she asked with full irritation, eyes flashing. "That you're a giant asshole? Message received."

Jess snorted. This Rory was fun.

"You want to play like that?" Logan asked, moving closer to her in a manner that could only be perceived as threatening. "I was simply asking some questions. You're the one who bumped it up a notch. I don't hit, you know that, but you try that crap again and I may change my stance."

"You try it," Jess growled, moving up next to Rory, "and I will suddenly have a _lot _to say to you."

"Jess," she murmured, laying a hand on his arm. "Let's just go."

"Yeah, go ahead and go," Logan sneered. "I'll see you tomorrow night, right Ror? We'll talk then."

She ignored him, and steered Jess to a waiting cab. Tipping the doorman who'd held the cab for them, she climbed in beside him.

"Ugh," she said with disgust as they drove off.

He nodded tersely. "Agreed."

"I'm sorry," she said gruffly.

His face twitched with annoyance. "For what? You didn't do anything."

"For him even being here."

"Again, not your fault."

She sighed with exasperation and lay her head back on the seat, tired. "He's only in your life because he was once in mine. So I'm responsible."

Now he chuckled. "I'm not entirely sure your argument holds water."

"Just let me win this one."

"Fine, fine," he grinned, holding up his hands in surrender. "You're responsible. All of this is your fault. The enjoyment I got out of watching you hit him is _all _on you."

Her eyes rolled but she couldn't contain a smile.

**AN: Reviews please? Every time you leave me a nice review, a puppy finds a home.**


	7. Chapter 7

Curves & Edges  
Chapter 7

By Buffychick

Author's Note: I'm not one for song-fic, mostly I think it's stupid, but this song inspired me, so there you have it.

Inspired by: "All of Me" by John Legend

Author's Note 2: I lost my inspiration with _Regrets and Reason_, and I know how horribly unfair that is. I promise to continue it, but in the meantime, I give you this this peace-offering.

Summary: Almost a decade after the disastrous kiss at Truncheon, Luke & Lorelei are married. Rory is a world-traveling reporter based in Boston. Jess is a successful author recently moved from Philadelphia to New York. When life brings Rory to New York she and Jess reconnect.

* * *

The drive was short, even with New York's perpetual traffic. She was delighted to find that Jess's apartment was exactly as she'd have pictured it – completely him. An older brownstone with wood floors and some charming old-world detailing on the ceilings, he even boasted a fireplace and washer/dryer hookups, as sure sign of his success. It was messy, but it was him, with books spread everywhere, in stacks on the floor and the tables, papers and mail scattered about, the occasional pile of clothing. The living room held a large, soft brown couch and a square wood and tile coffee table positioned in front of a massive TV, and several bookcases lined the walls behind the couch containing both books and DVD's. A few prints in frames hung on the walls. A photo of Luke, Lorelei, Rory and Jess, taken at Luke & Lorelei's wedding, sat on a shelf, the only personal photo she could see.

"Sorry," he muttered, trying to quickly straighten up.

"Leave it, really," she told him gently. "It's…fine."

"At least let me clear off the couch."

She chuckled. "Be my guest."

He quickly scooped up the books and his laptop, depositing them onto the bed in the other room.

"Tour?" she asked brightly.

He shook his head with a laugh. "Living room," he pointed out, obviously. They walked together to the kitchen, which was decent sized for a New York apartment, done in white and gray subway tiles. A small two-person table sat against a wall, under a window that offered no view other than the building across the alley. "Kitchen." She giggled, and followed him again as he pointed down the hallway. "Bathroom, world's tiniest guest room. Nothing major there, it's basically a glorified closet. Mostly storage and crap I haven't unpacked."

They moved to the right and lingered in the doorway of his bedroom. "And, bedroom," he said unnecessarily.

She nodded. "All the essentials."

"That's what the ad said."

She looked around briefly. A queen sized bed was the focal point here, unmade with black sheets and a gray and white comforter, but with a lovely black leather headboard. Clothing littered the floor, which he quickly swept up in his arms and threw into the closet, making her grin. It didn't surprise her, the lack of personal items, though she smiled wider and walked over to the framed and hung copies of his book covers. "I love this," she told him with a sincere smile. "You should be so proud."

He shrugged, embarrassed. "It has its moments."

She let him off the hook. "So, movie? Food?" They navigated back to the couch and she flounced down, making herself comfortable.

"Chinese or subs?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I get an opinion?"

"You get a choice of one of those two things, both of which deliver relatively quickly," he corrected with a grin.

She smiled back, and it lifted his heart. "Chinese. Lots of everything."

He nodded and hit a button on the phone, speed-dialing the local Chinese place. After placing the order he retreated to the bedroom for a moment while Rory flipped on the TV and absently scrolled through the channels. When the bedroom door opened a minute later, Jess reappeared in flannel pants and a t-shirt. She was almost ashamed at the thoughts that seeing him dressed like this invoked. He returned to the living room and strode to a bookcase filled with DVD's, turning his back to her while he selected a movie.

She watched him as he considered the movies. He wasn't a muscle-bound guy, but he had definitely filled out nicely over the years. His back was strong, and the t-shirt just tight enough that it emphasized the definition of his shoulders. The pants sagged low enough on his waist that when he reached for a movie on the top shelf, she was treated to a delicious peek of his bare back and hips.

Flushing, she pulled her eyes away and forced them back to the TV, noticing with horror that she had left it on the Hallmark channel and quickly changed it to anything else. Jess padded back over to her and held out his selection.

"_The Avengers_?" she grinned.

He looked at her skeptically. "That okay?"

"You, my friend, are about to discover that I am a huge, huge Marvel Comics nerd," she clapped her hands giddily.

His mouth all but fell open. "Since _when_?"

"Since as of the production of these movies," she grinned. "I'm not so far around the bend that I've gone back and bought all the comics or even read them, but I adore the movies. _ Thor_ 1 & 2, _Captain America_ 1 & 2, _Iron Man _1, 2 and 3. And I have every episode of _Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D._ recorded so I can binge-watch the whole season some weekend. I wouldn't let myself watch it until the season is over because I didn't know how often I'd get to see it being on the road all the time. I hate getting spoiled."

He just stared at her in disbelief. "Are there any more surprises you want to pull on me tonight? I don't even know what to make of this information."

She crisscrossed her legs in front of her, rocking back on the couch. "Are you proud?" she asked sweetly.

"Like you were my own child," he grinned back. "But there's so much more to teach you."

"I've seen this movie like ten times," she warned him as he popped the movie in the DVD player and took a seat next to her on the couch. "I can repeat the dialogue."

"Yes, but you also have a strict no-talking-during-movies rule," he reminded her. "Or has that changed too?"

She looked at him with affection and smiled. "I can't believe you remember that."

"I remember everything," he told her pointedly. The look he gave her had meaning, but what that meaning was she couldn't quite determine.

"Drink?" he asked as the opening credits rolled.

"Whatever you're having," she said absently, eyes on the TV.

He smiled and shook his head in disbelief at her glee in his movie selection as he wandered to the kitchen, pulling two bottles of beer out of the fridge. Opening them both and handing one to her as he sat back down.

When the food arrived, two more beers were opened, and they sipped and dug into the multiple containers of food he'd ordered, passing them back and forth without words. He remembered how much she loved pot stickers and ordered double. She knew he would eat all the egg rolls and made sure to secure one before that could happen. He picked out all of the bok choy and ate it himself, remembering her dislike of the vegetable.

She noticed, he noticed.

When he pulled out a bag of the soft, sugar covered biscuits he knew she was so fond of, her heart all but melted. "You remembered," she murmured, touched.

"You doubted me?" he smiled softly.

Their eyes held momentarily and electricity all but crackled in the air. He passed her the bag and their fingers touched briefly during the exchange. Shakily she accepted the dessert and let out a deep breath as she settled back against the couch, eyes firmly on the movie. He wandered to the kitchen and she heard two more bottles open.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" she teased, accepting her bottle.

"Not intentionally, but it might be fun," he smirked.

"Not for you. I'll just talk more than usual."

He snorted. "Not possible."

She smiled and sipped quietly, and while her eyes were on the TV, her attention was completely off the movie and onto the man next to her. It felt so normal to be next to him like this – comfortable clothes, lazy on the couch, watching a movie as if they did it every weekend and this wasn't the first time they'd really been alone in over a decade.

Jess slid back against the couch, keeping his distance from her just a bit more than before, but his concentration wasn't with the movie. "Can I ask you something?" he said a moment later.

She glanced over at him. "Sure."

"Tomorrow night. Are you going to be okay?"

"You mean with Logan?" she asked. "Yeah…sure. I mean, it won't be a barrel of laughs or anything, but Jack will be there, and mom and Luke."

He didn't look convinced. "I don't want him to ruin your night."

She smiled appreciatively, and patted his hand. "He won't. I promise."

Her hand rested on his, giving it an assuring squeeze, and he looked down her their hands as if she'd burned him. Turning his hand over, he stared at their fingers, now entwined, while his chest tightened.

Rory's heart was thudding so loud she was sure he could hear it and her breathing increased. He continued to study their hands before asking his next question. "Why did you come to see me?"

The question caught her off guard. "Wh-what?" she asked breathlessly, confused at both the unexpected question and the touch of his fingers on hers.

"In Philly," he clarified softly, his eyes never leaving their hands.

"I…oh," she faltered. "I wanted to see you."

He dragged his eyes up to hers. "Why?"

Her mind reeling, she gently pulled her hand from his and hugged her arms to her chest. So they were going to talk about this. "Because you were doing what you wanted to do, what you were _meant _to do, and I wanted to see what that was like for you. You were never happy in Stars Hollow, I hoped you were happy in Philadelphia, and I wanted to see what you were like, happy."

He considered this. "That's all it was?"

Her brow furrowed and she began to speak before she stopped herself and considered the consequences. "No," she finally murmured, drawing her knees up to her chest and looking incredibly small and young. He waited. "I wanted to see you."

"You said that," he reminded her.

"I wanted to see _you_," she repeated more strongly. "To thank you. Because you'd gotten through to me, made me turn my life back around, and I thought maybe there was…something more to it."

His eyes were all but penetrating her. "Something more to what?"

She closed her eyes and hugged herself tighter. "What you said to me, before that night, was all true. You know me better than anyone. You knew me better than Logan did. It…it made me realize how much I'd missed you. Someone who knew me and who got me. Not just anyone. Specifically, you."

"Specifically me." He digested this and ran a hand through his hair, slightly frustrated. "Then why did you…" he began, and as emotions began to get the better of him, paused. When he regained an iota of control, he continued. "Why did you tell me you were in love with him? Why did you let me kiss you and then run away?"

"Because I was terrified."

"Of _what_?" he asked, and cursed himself that his tone was far more terse than he intended. "Why were you scared?" he said more gently.

Her eyes opened, and she looked straight at him, suddenly very tired of dancing around the subject. "Because I realized when you kissed me that I still loved you…and I was so messed up… I couldn't ruin the life you'd made for yourself."

His eyes widened at her words. Never had he considered that. Never once had he thought _she _would ever be afraid of ruining _him_. "You were afraid of messing _me_ up?" he asked incredulously.

She nodded. "Yes."

Jess pondered her words for a moment. He wanted to throttle her for thinking she could mess him up by being with him, when in truth her leaving had ripped out his heart. At the same time, he could appreciate the feeling. That's exactly what he would have done to her if she'd actually run away with him when he'd demanded she leave Yale and come with him.

He turned back to the movie, and she took another swallow of beer nervously. "You're an idiot," he told her lightly, taking a drink himself.

She brought the bottle down from her lips. "Excuse me?" she asked wryly.

His eyes remained on the TV, and he took another drink before answering her. "You broke my heart when you left."

Rory's head snapped in his direction, and she stared at him, stunned. "What?"

He glanced at her briefly with a raised eyebrow and a shrug that said "You heard me," before returning his focus to the TV instead of his pounding heart and her wide eyes.

"Repeat that," she requested, sitting up slightly.

Jess looked at her sideways. "Why?"

She sat up fully and leaned her forearms onto her knees, turning her head to stare at him. "Because I'm a couple of drinks in, and because you've never, ever in your life said something like that to me and I want to hear it one more time to make sure I'm not drunk or that I didn't just have an aneurysm or something."

He sighed heavily, not sure why he'd said anything because it had led to _this_, and _this _was awkward as hell. "I thought you were there to maybe…tell me that you wanted to try us again."

He wouldn't look at her, he was almost squirming, and she tried not to delight in that. "Is it that hard?" she asked softly.

"Is what that hard?"

She couldn't help smiling sadly, still leaning on her knees and looking at him. "You kissed me, Jess. _We_ kissed. That's usually an indication of attraction; it's not really a surprise that I gathered you were interested, so why is it so difficult saying now what you were feeling nine years ago?"

His mouth formed a terse frown. "Because it killed me when you left. There. I said it. Again."

She pursed her lips together. "I didn't know I did that."

His eyes remained on the TV as he struggled to seem aloof. "I know."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you were a little busy declaring your love for that asshole," he bit out, instantly regretting the tone. "Sorry," he said more gently. "And then you were gone. The last time I'd told you how I felt, it didn't end well."

_What do you have to say to me?_

_I love you._

She didn't speak for a minute. It was true. She had done that. She'd run away from him that night, scared out of her mind at ruining him when he'd just found his way.

"Are we friends?" she asked suddenly.

He blinked rapidly, surprised. "I…well, yeah. Aren't we?"

"I think so…"

"But?"

She squirmed adorably. "It feels like more than friends. It's not a relationship, a romantic one I mean, but…it feels like more than casual friends. These last few weeks have, anyway."

A bemused smile fell across his face. "Can you vague that up anymore?"

She grimaced, and reached over, tracing his knuckles with her finger. "I just mean…the dinner, the talking, the texting. Tonight. This, right now. We've been flirting. Haven't we?" Crystal blue eyes were suddenly doubtful and slightly alarmed. "Am I crazy here? You can tell me if I am."

He wanted to respond with a smart-assed comment out of habit, but bit it back, instead just staring at her fingers lingering on his hand. "I honestly don't know," he admitted finally, letting out the breath he didn't recognize he'd been holding. "We've always been more than friends, Rory. You know that. We can call it whatever you want, but it was there when we met, when you were with Dean, when you left for DC, when you came back. It was there when I left and came back, both times. It was there in Hartford, and it was there in Philly. It's here now. Like I said, it's you, me. It's what it is."

She said nothing, just stared at him nervously and he continued. "I've realized that I missed you more than I knew. We always got each other. Maybe it wasn't easy, or perfect, but we knew each other. And I still feel like I know you. Or," his said, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly, "I did until you punched Logan and blew that notion to hell. And now, the movie," he indicated the TV with a nod of the head, "I'm starting to question everything I've ever known."

She gave him a small smile. "I know what you mean. It's like…I could not talk to you for ten years, but I could still predict how you'd react to something, what your opinion would be on anything."

"Pretty much," he nodded.

"Like how you'd appreciate that my date was a raging Blues Traveler fan."

"Rory," Jess began, shifting uncomfortably, removing his hand from her touch, "I don't want us to mistake the fact that we could set up a music playlist for each other, or pick out a summer reading list without a second thought, or even the fact that there's always been this connection between us…for something more than it is," he told her sincerely. "I don't want us to think that because nine years ago we had a shot and it didn't work, _again_, that this is more than it is right now."

She nodded. "I don't want that either."

"What _do_ you want? Because…honestly…as much as I've missed you, I don't know if I can do this again. Go down that road," he said darkly. "A lot of pain lies down there, and I finally stopped seriously hurting not as long ago as you'd expect."

Her heart slammed in her chest. "Are you serious?"

He threw a crazed expression at her and took a long pull on the beer. "About which part?"

"How long?"

He nodded uncomfortably, avoiding her eyes. "I don't know. Couple years."

"You…a couple _years_?" she asked, skeptically.

Closing his eyes he gathered his nerve. What the hell. "After I saw you at your grandparent's house, nine years ago, _four_ years after I first laid eyes on you, and _three_ years after we'd first kissed, I knew that I wasn't over you. I thought I was. I tried to be. I distracted myself in ways I'm not proud of." He all but winced at the memories of drinks, girls, and more to the point, all the nights and all the girls he _couldn't_ remember because of the drinks.

"There was still something there," he continued after a pause. "When you showed up at Truncheon, I thought…okay…it wasn't just me. She feels something too. And then all that happened. So I gave up."

To her irritation, tears sprang to her eyes. "I can't believe you remember the timeline. I'm sorry, Jess. I didn't realize."

"I thought kissing you was a pretty big indicator."

She nodded. "I didn't realize what it meant to you."

He shrugged, pretending it didn't matter.

"Don't do that," she begged. "Don't act like it's nothing."

He faced her, setting the beer bottle down on the coffee table. "Rory…I'm sorry, but it _is_ nothing. It's nine years later. We're adults. It's history now," he pointed out, irritated.

"You just said that 'thing' is still here, between us. Does it feel like history?" she asked, panicking a bit for reasons she couldn't pin down. "Does it? Why are we even talking about this?"

He gave her an annoyed glare. "I'm sorry I brought it up!" he snapped.

"No!" she cried, desperately. "That's not what I meant. I mean, why is there even something to talk about? Why do we both have regrets? Why can't we just get over it and let it go? Jess," she pleaded, moving closer to him, taking his hands in hers. "What is this thing? Is it just unresolved stuff or is it more than that?"

"I…" Her eyes were huge, filling with tears and he wanted to punch himself. "Rory," he began again, desperately trying to control the emotion in his voice. "What do you want from me?" His voice broke as he said the words, and with it, her heart. "I can't do this again just to have it fall apart. Because I don't think we can recover again. If it didn't work, I don't think we could be friends, ever, no matter how many years go by. I can't watch you walk away or choose someone else over me again."

"There's no one else," she whispered. "Everything always comes back to you."

His heart ached at her words, but his expression didn't falter. "I don't think I can take that risk."

"Kiss me."

AN: Well? :)


	8. Chapter 8

Curves & Edges  
Chapter 8

By Buffychick

Author's Note: I'm not one for song-fic, mostly I think it's stupid, but this song inspired me, so there you have it.

Inspired by: "All of Me" by John Legend

Author's Note 2: I lost my inspiration with _Regrets and Reason_, and I know how horribly unfair that is. I promise to continue it, but in the meantime, I give you this this peace-offering.

Summary: Almost a decade after the disastrous kiss at Truncheon, Luke & Lorelei are married. Rory is a world-traveling reporter based in Boston. Jess is a successful author recently moved from Philadelphia to New York. When life brings Rory to New York she and Jess reconnect.

* * *

His heart stopped. "_What?_"

"Kiss me," she repeated, a tear escaping down her face. "Kiss me, and we'll know. If there's nothing there, or if it's one-sided, fine. But we'll know, and we can figure out what to do…either way."

"Are you _insane_?"

She didn't respond, just stared at him with her wide blue eyes, everything bared in them as she gripped his hands. And then she leaned in and touched her lips to his.

Shock waves raged through him at the touch of her, and for a moment he didn't respond in any way, stunned into incapacity. When her lips parted and her tongue reached out to lightly trace his bottom lip, he groaned and dropped all his barriers. It felt like coming home, and they lost themselves within seconds, hands reaching for and tangling in hair, sliding over his arms, down her back, cupping her face, desperate for more.

It went on and on, hearts racing and breaths coming quickly until they were panting, and she shifted closer to him before he simply pulled her completely against him and assaulted her mouth, joy reigning over any fear he'd had moments before. Her hands fisted in his hair and he moaned into her mouth, wrapping his arms around her back and holding her to his chest until she thought he'd crush her. His tongue plunged into her mouth, and she reciprocated with abandon, energy surging through her.

With every ounce of control she had, Rory reluctantly slowed the kiss and pulled back slightly, breathless. Her eyes searched his face and he swallowed hard, catching his breath.

"Tell me that was nothing," she said softly, tracing a finger over his lips.

He stared at her, his breath slowing, and leaned back on the couch, eyes closed. "It wasn't nothing."

"You don't look happy about that," she noted, embarrassed. She dropped her hands from his face and nervously finger traced the edge of the sofa cushion. "It's been awhile, but I thought you and I always did that pretty well."

His eyes opened. "The kiss was fine. Great. Fantastic even. It's…everything else."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. "I feel like I'm sixteen again," she confessed in an explosion of breath, then bit her lip, embarrassed.

For a minute he said nothing. "Maybe Luke will burst in here in a minute, looking for a hat or a frying pan, and relieve some of the tension."

Rory dared a small smile. "You still know me," she told him softly. "Just as much as I _think_ I know you. And I've missed you too. Same thing. I had no idea how much I missed you until you were the person I wanted to text when I was on my date." She paused momentarily, gearing up courage. "I have this wacky idea."

A dark eyebrow arched. "Oh goodie."

She ignored him. "That maybe just once we should be totally honest with each other and see where that leads us instead of us guessing or taking a step forward just to have it blow up."

"We might seriously regret it."

"We might," she conceded. "But it might do a lot more to clear the air between us."

She paused, and he was silent, just watching her expectantly, so she continued. "We were kids when we met. That accounts for a lot of things, I know. You were taken away from your home, even if the circumstances there weren't ideal, and sent to Stars Hollow against your will. We were growing up and had no idea what to do with the feelings we had for each other. We proved that by letting our emotions take over, then getting scared and running away. A lot."

His eyes betrayed nothing and she kept going. "We hurt each other. We left each other. We didn't talk when we should have. But-and I know we hashed this out a few years ago after mom and Luke got engaged—it's obvious you've never really accepted my apology for how I treated you in Philadelphia."

There went that eyebrow again. He started to protest, but thought better of it. If she was being honest, so would he. "I don't know that I have either. I want to," he assured her gently, "but I don't know if I really have. The last time I'd seen you I ended up yelling at you about how crappy you were running your own life, which admittedly, wasn't my business. I really thought you were gone, the girl I'd known. I was…heartbroken over that."

"What do you mean?" she asked, eyes sad.

Jess sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I thought you had changed so much there was no going back," he revealed. "I hoped not, but I didn't know. You were so different than the girl I'd been in love with. I couldn't find much of _my_ Rory in who you were back then, and I was upset about it."

_His _Rory. She smiled to herself. "I know. But, you got through to me."

"When you came to Truncheon…I figured the planets had finally aligned and all that. We were on the same page, even if we weren't in the same city. I had gotten my act together, and I was doing well, and you were back doing what you were always supposed to do…"

Rory's heart broke again, for the thousandth time. "I've said this before, but I really am so sorry about it. I was so angry with Logan…and I knew that there was always this thing between us. I really did want to see your success, your life. I was so proud of you. I still am," she corrected with a smile. "It was horrible and unfair of me to use you like that."

"And to tell me that you were in love with him," he said stoically, his eyes never leaving the ceiling.

She cursed herself in her head, regret all but consuming her. "I thought I was. I wanted to be. I figured out I wasn't, and ended it. Not too long after that, I was on a bus following the President around the country. There's a lot of down time on the bus as you go from one city to the next," she told him. "When you left for California I was… a mess. Maybe not on the outside, but…I wrote you letters that I never sent because I had nowhere to send them. I went to Europe with my mom, and I saw you in everything we came across. I wrote to you about all it, everything I knew you would have appreciated more than anyone else I knew. I couldn't get you out of my head. I went to Yale. Eventually it got easier."

"Not thinking about me?"

She nodded sadly. "Yeah. Moving on, like I told you I was going to on the phone…on the day I graduated from Chilton and you called me from wherever you were."

He remembered that day with regret, sweltering in the leather jacket in the hot sun, but too stupid to take it off. "Still California."

"Then you showed up at Yale and wanted me to go away with you, and I just couldn't. You'd left me twice, I'd left you once… It felt like a huge mistake to go with you. It would have been a huge mistake. It wasn't that I didn't want you. But I didn't want to leave where I was."

"It would have been a mistake," he agreed quietly.

She lay back on the couch, suddenly very tired, and turned on her side, curling up. "I missed you so much. I did a lot of stupid stuff trying to feel the way you'd made me feel."

"I doubt you did anything that life-altering," he said absently, again reminded of all of the things he'd done trying to recapture that same feeling.

"I slept with Dean."

His entire body went rigid and slowly he tore his gaze from the floor to her face. "You did _what_?"

"I slept with Dean," she repeated, loathing herself all over again but now adding a new level to it with the look on his face. "Who was married at the time."

A million things to say sprang to his mind, none of them kind, all of them insulting. "Why…_why_?" he finally stammered.

"I was lonely. I wasn't over you, even though I thought I was. I'm not blaming you, Jess, I'm trying to explain it," she told him sincerely. "You were…I couldn't depend on you. I didn't trust you, even if I loved you."

"And _Dean_ was dependable? The man who cheated on his _wife_ was more trustworthy than I was?" he bit out, hurt.

"He was _there_," she said pointedly. "It was a mistake, I know. It was wrong. He was married. And he was apparently miserable with her, and she was miserable with him, and I told myself it was okay because they weren't happy, and I wasn't happy, so he and I could…be happy. It ruined his marriage, It didn't make me happy or make me feel like I had with you, and it ruined any chance of Dean and I being friends ever again. He left town and I haven't heard from him since then."

"Is there a point in telling me all of this?" he asked, rubbing his face wearily with both hands.

"I ran away to Europe after I slept with Dean," she said softly, shame-filled. "I didn't even say goodbye that I can remember. I was furious with my mom, because she was furious with me for sleeping with a married man…I just wanted out of there. I couldn't deal with it all. So I left with my grandma and spent the entire summer in Europe, ignoring everyone in Stars Hollow."

Jess didn't meet her eyes. "So, you kiss me and go to DC without a word. You sleep with…_Dean_…and you go to Europe without a goodbye. And…somehow I'm still the devil?"

Her eyes were reproachful. "That's kind of the point in me telling you this. I…I'm a hypocrite."

He wasn't sure how to respond to that, though he agreed. "I can't believe you slept with Dean."

"It wasn't exactly my proudest moment. It's kind of a tie with the time I stole a boat."

His mouth fell open before he closed it, and his eyes, running a hand over his face, tiredly. "I'm sorry…I think I blacked out for a minute. You slept with Dean…_and _you stole a boat."

"A yacht, actually. I have a police record. For the boat…not for the thing with Dean," she clarified. "I went to jail. My mom had to come bail me out."

Jess closed his eyes for a moment. "Rory, I really don't know what to make of any of this."

"I'm not asking you to make anything of it. I'm trying to explain that I was way more upset and messed up than you probably think I was. And while I don't blame you, I think that a large part of it was that I thought I'd lost you forever and I didn't know how to handle it."

He felt a little nauseous. "Let me see if I can recap here. I got freaked out a couple times, or kicked out of school which turned into a freak out, and I left Stars Hollow because I was angry and embarrassed and I needed to get my head straight. You had one guy tell you that you weren't going to make a good journalist and you slept with Dean, dropped out of Yale, went to work for the DAR, abandoned your mom, lived with your grandparents, and stole a yacht. Please tell me there is nothing else."

She blushed but nodded. "That about sums it up. Except the timeline is a bit off. I slept with Dean before I met Logan. Right after you…came back for your car," she finished lamely. "Like…a week or less later. Logan and I began dating the next school year."

"And by the end of that year you had dropped out of school, cut off ties with your mom, and stole a boat."

"Do you have to keep saying it?" she asked testily.

"I'm just having trouble believing it. In the span of two hours you've punched an ex-boyfriend, confessed that you slept with a married man and committed a felony. Sorry it's a little more than I can take."

"I haven't even mentioned the tattoo."

His eyes zipped back to hers. "There's a _tattoo_?"

She smiled sweetly. "No. Just wanted to see what you'd do."

He groaned inwardly, albeit slightly disappointed. Then: "I don't know if I like this whole honesty thing."

"I can't say I'm enjoying it so far," she agreed. "But I'm not done."

He rolled to face her. "How can it possibly get worse? Please tell me you don't have an ex-husband or had a kid with Kirk or something."

Rory absently played with the corner of a pillow. "What I did to you at Truncheon was bad, but I'm pretty sure some of it was also a little revenge for how you just walked away from us."

Jess winced. "I figured."

"I didn't do it on purpose," she told him. "I didn't go there thinking 'how can I screw with Jess.' It was a lot later that I put it together."

Jess sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time. "I never thought you did it maliciously. It hurt, but I never thought you set out to mess with my head. I never knew you to be deliberately cruel. You seem to make some incredibly questionable decisions when your head is spun, but you were never mean." He reached out and ran a strand of her hair through his fingers. "When you left Philly that night…I was crushed. I know I tried to play it off like it was okay, it was just another episode of the Rory and Jess show, but it wasn't. And I kind of decided I was done with you at that point. We would inevitably run into each other at some point, the world is too small for us not to have, but I was done being in love with you, wishing we could work it out. I just couldn't do it again."

"I know the feeling," she said lightly.

"It was the second time you'd thrown me over for someone else." She bit her lip as she realized the truth in his statement, but only nodded. "But I also realized that…I'd thrown you over for the unknown. And was that really any better. I had things I had to do, and you probably would have understood completely if I'd just told you what was going on with me…and I didn't. I'm sorry for that."

He finally met her eyes. "I missed you. For all the hell we've put each other through, I missed you. After we had dinner in New York, it was different. I've seen you at family stuff before, but that was really the first time we just talked, just us. No Stars Hollow, no Lorelei or Luke. It got me thinking about you again. More," he corrected.

"It was nice," she smiled.

"I miss us being friends," he admitted reluctantly, and she realized he was almost blushing.

With a smile, she squeezed his hand. "I do, too."

"I don't know what this is, Rory," he said, gesturing between them. "Maybe it's the fact that we could never make it work. It's just something unsettled and we need to settle it."

"Maybe," she said flatly, her eyes doubtful.

"Yeah, maybe," he mused, as unconvinced at she'd sounded. He tugged at her hair again, fingering the long strands without really realizing what he was doing. "So, we're both guilty of getting scared and running away and making really, really bad choices."

"It would appear so."

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he murmured.

Rory's eye softened. "I'm sorry I hurt you too."

They sat side by side in uncomfortable silence for a moment as her fingers absently traced the pattern of a throw pillow. "Do you really think this…whatever this is between us…it's just leftover memories?"

He swallowed. "I did. I don't know now."

"Why?"

There were too many reasons to mention…where would he begin? Because it was her, and because it was him, and it was never, ever over for them in his mind, no matter how much it should be? He swallowed that and kept it simple instead. "Because we flirted at dinner. And over text. I think about you – more than I'm comfortable with. And when you kissed me on the cheek, I wanted to kiss you back. And when we kissed just now…I didn't want to stop. That's not generally something friends do."

She couldn't help the happy smile that came over her. "Really?"

He threw her a petulant look. "Being attracted to you has never been a question. You know better than that."

She shrugged. "Feelings change. Maybe you think I'm hideous."

"Hardly. Now stop digging for compliments."

Her mouth dropped open and she smacked his shoulder. "I'm not digging for compliments!"

He chuckled. "You're gorgeous. You've always been gorgeous. Now shut up. Besides, once I realized how smart you were, and what great taste you had in music and books, you became a lot more interesting."

"You just liked tormenting Dean."

"It was a huge perk, but not the main objective."

They fell silent for a moment. "So you only kissed me back like that because you think I'm attractive?"

Jess grinned and rolled his eyes. "I kissed you back because…I wanted to. Because it felt right. But I'm not sure that it is."

Her smile fell. "Oh."

"I'm not saying it's not."

"Okay."

"I feel like I'm not saying what you want to hear."

"Because you aren't."

He stilled. "What do you mean?"

"Because I really want to kiss you again," she whispered, and he saw the vulnerability and fear in her eyes. "I'm processing all of this, and I'm trying to be logical and rational, but we were never really about being logical and rational, so why should that change now? I didn't know that I wanted you to kiss me until I thought you might not ever do it again."

Jess swallowed hard, blood pounding in his ears. "That could be incredible. Or a really bad idea."

"I have never stopped thinking about you, even if is was entirely unconsciously," she told him boldly, deciding enough was enough. "I don't know why I can't stop, or what it is between us that never, ever seems to go away. But it feels wrong not to talk to you, not to see you or be with you. It feels right being here with you now. It felt right when we danced, when we went to dinner. If you don't feel it, or don't think it's worth it, I wish you'd just tell me right now so I can fall through the floor out of embarrassment and then get on with my life."

His heart was slamming in his chest, though his face only displayed a small amount of surprise at her declaration.

"So…what do you want?" she asked him, impatiently.

He couldn't help it. Closing the distance between them, he kissed her suddenly, and declared victory when she groaned and her hands came up to tangle in his hair as she moved her body to align with his.

AN: Still a cliffhanger, and I'm going to get crucified in the comments, aren't I? :)


	9. Chapter 9

Curves & Edges  
Chapter 9

By Buffychick

Author's Note: I'm not one for song-fic, mostly I think it's stupid, but this song inspired me, so there you have it.

Inspired by: "All of Me" by John Legend

Author's Note 2: I lost my inspiration with _Regrets and Reason_, and I know how horribly unfair that is. I promise to continue it, but in the meantime, I give you this this peace-offering.

Summary: Almost a decade after the disastrous kiss at Truncheon, Luke & Lorelei are married. Rory is a world-traveling reporter based in Boston. Jess is a successful author recently moved from Philadelphia to New York. When life brings Rory to New York she and Jess reconnect.

* * *

It was soft at first, tender and curious and tentative…until it wasn't. Gasping for breath, Jess pulled away and touched his forehead to hers, eyes closed. "I don't want us to never be able to be in a room again without a giant elephant in there as well, because we follow some compulsion right now."

Rory's eyes closed, her heart wrenching. "I know. Please believe me that I don't want that to happen either."

"I do. But I want this so badly…I don't know if I can stop," he confessed, his voice breaking just a bit.

Hot liquid shot through to her core at his words. Rory's lips crashed onto his in a furious kiss.

His hands came up to her face and he cupped her cheeks, holding her as his lips moved more surely over hers. When she sighed happily, energy shot through him, and he deepened the embrace. Between kisses he gasped out, "If this is the part where you tell me you're still in love with Logan I swear to God I might actually go kill him."

Her eyes shot open, shocked, and she pulled away from him until she noticed the laughter in his eyes. "You're a jerk," she murmured, shifting and eliminating any space between them, gripping the front of his shirt with her fist as her mouth fit over his.

It should have been familiar, the way they kissed only each other, the smell of her hair, her skin, the roughness of his hands. The feel of her lips was unmatched after all this time, and he groaned when her tongue thrust into his mouth. But there was nothing familiar about this. The kiss became ferocious, and Jess groaned when Rory broke away and sat up abruptly, removing the hair clip from her hair. She smiled sexily at him, and tugging on his arm, pulled him up to sit against the back of the couch before easing herself into his lap, her legs on either side of his thighs.

She gazed down at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands raking through his hair, plunging through the dark mess as her mouth assaulted his.

"Jesus, Rory," he gasped when she unconsciously ground her hips against his. The moan he let out when she did it purposely sent a thrill of victory through her entire body. Moving his mouth from her lips to her collarbone, then her shoulders, he nipped, bit, licked his way across her chest and she held his head in her hands, her eyes closed, her head thrown back at the sensations.

She was greedy. Demanding. Her legs and weight pinned him in a sitting position. His hands came up to her hair and he grabbed a fistful, dragging her mouth back down to his, her tongue plunging to tangle with his the minute they connected again. Rory tugged at his shirt, yanking it up and allowing her hands to roam under it, then over his skin. Their hips aligned, and a groan escaped his lips when she ground into him.

It wasn't enough. The kisses were threatening to make him lose his mind, but it wasn't enough. He moved from her mouth to her neck, and her head fell back in ecstasy as he suckled lightly, moving over her collarbone to her shoulder, tugging at the fabric blocking him until he finally just swore and ripped the shirt over her head. She wore a black strapless bra, probably for the dress earlier more than the outfit now, and he almost swore at the sight of it, feeling himself harden in a way he hadn't known possible. The bra quickly followed the shirt and his mouth eagerly found purchase on her right breast while his left hand kneaded the other. She moaned and held his head firmly in her hands, keeping him right where he was. His tongue lathed over her nipple, his teeth gently scraped and nipped, causing her to make the most erotic little whimpers he'd ever heard.

"Jess," she moaned, dragging his mouth back up to hers and plunging her tongue inside his mouth. He pulled her closer, his hips arching to hit her in just the right spot and she gasped. Her hands ripped at his shirt, tugging it off roughly, but he didn't care. Shrugging out of it, she returned to his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip and suckling it. For a brief, insane moment he wondered about her injured hand, but was quickly distracted when she ground her hips against his and rose up until he captured her breast in his mouth. She arched and threw her head back in pleasure and he was sure he was going to black out from blood that rushed south of his brain.

"Christ, Rory," he swore, his hands splaying over her naked back, his tongue desperately traveling over and between her breasts as she clung to him, chest heaving.

"You have too many clothes on," she gasped, finding his mouth again with her own.

He agreed. Gripping her tightly he eased her backward until he could move his legs from beneath her and get his balance. Disappointment was quickly erased when he pushed off the couch, pulling her up with him and hoisted her into his arms. She groaned with delight. "This is exactly what I needed," she whispered in his ear, as her legs circled his waist and she kissed him desperately. "It's been too long."

He stumbled to the bedroom and lowered her to the bed, but didn't follow, instead observing her from where he stood.

"What?" she asked, puzzled.

"I just…need a minute," he said slowly.

Her brow crinkled as confusion played over her face. "Okay…are you alright?"

"If we do this…what does that mean, Rory?" he asked. "Because we are not a one night stand. We're not. We can't be. We can't go back there. I can't hate you again."

She blinked rapidly. "Do you think that's what this is? Because for me…this is years of repression."

Hurt flooded his face and he recoiled. "I won't be the cure for your dry spell," he bit out quietly, and his sudden anger surprised even him.

Her mouth dropped open, appalled. "That's _not _what I meant."

"Then explain it to me," he requested through a clenched jaw.

She wasn't sure she'd ever heard his voice so cold. Taking his face in her hand, she forced him to look at her. "Repression of my feelings for _you_," she told him boldly.

While Rory's voice and words may have been confident, her eyes told a completely different story. For a moment he considered whether or not he believed her. Their eyes searched each other for a sign of some kind, _any_ kind, and her thumb traced over his cheek.

"I'm going to need more than that," he said finally, but his voice had warmed a bit.

She swallowed and took a deep breath. "I want you. I don't know for what, exactly. But I know that I want more than here and now. I want more than this," she gestured to the bed.

"You want…a relationship?"

"Do you?" she asked, turning the tables on him.

"Hell, I don't know, Rory," he sighed. "I mean…it's us. We've done this. More than once. We haven't been able to make it work."

"Does this feel wrong to you?" she asked him. "Did kissing me, touching me, feel wrong to you?"

"It's sex," he said casually, and almost punched himself in the face for it.

Now her head tilted with irritation and her eyes narrowed. "Is that all it is to you? Really? Because I don't believe that. Jess, this is _me._ For once in your life, tell me what _you _feel. There's a reason we've been down this road so many times. There's a reason we keep being drawn to each other. It's not because my mother and your uncle got married." He started to protest and she snapped. "I'm not finished!"

"It's not because of Logan," she continued, her words speeding up. "It's not because of a dry spell or because we're lonely. It's because of _Howl_."

Confusion took over his face, and she rushed on. "And a kiss at a wedding. It's because of a basket auction, and Hemingway and Rand and bridges over lakes. Because of bus trips to New York and making up excuses to see each other, flirting over diner counters, carriage rides and snowmen and Katy Perry and Blues Traveler. Because you call me on my shit, and I call you on yours."

She stopped talking and neither of them moved. He wasn't sure he blinked.

After a solid minute, her resolve crumbled and she looked away. "You have nothing to say? Typical," she muttered, mortified, and moved to exit the bed.

"You're right."

She froze, her back to him. "What?"

The bed creaked, and his arms wrapped around her waist intimately, pulling her back to his chest. Settling his chin in the crook of her neck, he murmured, "You were right…about all of it."

She struggled against him, as fresh hurt sliced through her. "You know that's what you said to me on the bridge. Please don't use that against me right now. I like that memory."

Jess held her tight, refusing to let her up from the bed. "I'm not. I know that's what I said to you. But it applies here, too."

Rory was silent, her confidence gone and she sagged against him. With a single finger, he turned her chin towards him and kissed her gently. "You're right. It's because of all of those things that I can't let you go entirely, no matter how much I try."

"Jess, you're not the only one who can't let go," she told him softly, tears brimming in her eyes. "I'm right here with you in this. Just as confused and scared of what might happen."

He nodded sagely, his eyes locked on hers, his heart twisting at the sight of her sad eyes. When a lone tear escaped he brushed it away with his thumb and kissed her again, holding her to him until she finally twisted and brought her arms around him again.

As the kiss deepened he murmured, "I want this, Rory. I want you. And it's because of everything you just said and more."

"Then stop fighting it," she said lightly, and he relaxed a bit now that her tone had as well.

Jess eased her back until she was laying on the bed, his body half-hovering over hers. Kissing her once again, only briefly, he moved to her cheek, her ear, and down her neck, nuzzling her as he went, supported on his strong arms. When her breathing increased he felt confident enough to move further down, tracing her collarbone with his lips, then further still until he settled between her breasts and she was moaning again. Satisfied things were righted, he slowly moved backwards, up and off of her, until his feet planted on the floor.

Rory's eyes opened with confusion, then appreciation, and she watched him with heavy-lidded eyes as he divested himself of the pajama pants and boxer briefs. It was enough to kill him, the sight of her half-naked, panting, looking at him like that. He'd spent the better part of his youth imagining them in this scenario, the sweet torture of it all, but the dream had all but died years ago.

Now he returned to her, rising up and over her body, kissing her calves, the back of her knees, her inner thighs… She gasped when he nuzzled her intimately through her thin knit pants with his nose and lips. Her hands found his hair and tugged, bringing him closer to her, and he chuckled, pleased. With practiced moves, he rid her of her of the athletic pants.

When he pulled back momentarily to look at her, the woman he'd always wanted and never had, he swallowed hard at the sight of the black lace thong she wore. "God that's sexy," he murmured, before removing it and returning to her core, teasing her lightly with his tongue until she was thrusting her hips into his mouth and he wondered if she was going to rip out his hair, so tight was her grip on his skull. When she began a regular rhythm he gently added one finger, then another, easing them into her and groaning at how incredibly wet she was. He continued to lap at her eagerly, before suckling ever so gently on the knot of her flesh that sent her crying out his name.

"Jess!" she all but shouted and he grinned evilly, giving her one last lap with his tongue before moving up her body and nudging her with his length. Her legs parted for him, her hands pulled him to her and she devoured his mouth, thrusting her hips against him until he thought he would burst from the friction.

"Do we need…I have some...in the drawer…" he panted between kisses.

"It's okay, I'm clean," she told him. "And protected."

"Thank God," he moaned, deliriously happy. "Me too," he murmured, kissing her gently. "Clean." She smiled back at him and their eyes locked as he moved over her, poised.

"Jess," she whispered lovingly, and he entered her, falling into bliss.

She sighed as she accepted him and her legs instantly came up to wrap around him, locking them together. He leaned in again and kissed her tenderly, his heart pounding as he realized he was with Rory. _Rory._ Finally.

He cupped her face gently, his lips claiming her mouth as she began to rock against him and he forgot all sense. Her hands gripped at his back, then the sheets, as she brought her feet down to lay flat on the bed, giving her better leverage. He pulled himself up on his hands and moved to her breasts, suckling roughly as she yipped with the sensation. But he couldn't resist moving back to her mouth and soon they were sweating and panting, gasping for air as they rocketed together, lips fused, tongues entwined in a furious kiss.

For one brief,_ insane_ second he wondered if they should be doing this, if it would irreversibly change everything between them for the worse, but when her panting turned to short gasps and her hips began to move in double time, she cried his name and the thought was lost and he coaxed her closer.

"Come on baby," he urged, slamming his eyes shut in concentration as her muscles gripped him in the best way and he felt her shudder. Moments later he followed her, stars bursting in front of his eyes.

He stared at her for what felt like minutes, still nestled inside her, and for a moment she was afraid he was already regretting what they had done. But then he simply smiled, a smile that reached his eyes, and kissed her tenderly before moving gently to the side and throwing one leg over hers. His hand came up and entwined their fingers, eyes closed. Their bodies were slick with sweat, their breathing unsteady.

"You…okay?" he murmured after a moment, his face impassive but his voice giving away the weight of the question.

She couldn't help it; a grin instantly came to her face. "I might be dead."

His face relaxed and he smiled back. "That makes two of us."

"That was…"

"It was," he agreed, turning onto his side to face her, lazily trailing a finger over her arm and raising goose-bumps on her skin. He reached down and tugged at the sheet, covering them both lightly.

She remained on her back, but turned her head on the pillow to face him. "I know that now is when we're probably both dissecting this in our heads, and trying to figure out if we should have done this, and what it means, and where it's going," she began. "But…can we just not right now?"

He appraised her with dark eyes. "You're overestimating how much I can think at the moment. But, sure."

Rory turned on her side, shyly. "I just want to enjoy it."

His heart fluttered in what was probably a very un-masculine way, but he didn't care. "I'm enjoying it. Gimme a minute, we'll enjoy it again," he promised, his eyes closed as he just…basked.

She giggled and slapped at his shoulder. "You're such a stud."

Jess's eyes popped open with a devilish smile. "Show some more doubt and I'll prove you wrong, more than once," he warned lightly.

She cocked an eyebrow. "For what it's worth, I'm not regretting anything right now."

He gave her a lazy smile. "Me either."

"I just never thought…I really never thought we'd get here."

"For not wanting to talk about this, you're doing a horrible job," he reminded her, pulling her to his side.

"You're a cuddler?" she yelped.

"I…" his looked down at them. "First of all, I'm a guy. You're naked," he said firmly. "All guys want naked girls as near them as possible. Secondly,_ I'm_ naked. I want your naked body near mine. It's not cuddling."

"It's cuddling," she told him, grinning widely.

"It's naked hugging."

She snorted a laugh. "So if you put naked in front of the verb it makes it manly?"

"Think about it," he said easily, tracing a finger up her side, resting his forehead against her cheek. "Naked wrestling. Naked swimming. Naked poker. There's a reason these things exist. Naked dancing, naked cooking…well, maybe not cooking. But yeah, basically, you turn anything into a clothing optional event, it's better."

"I'm not really a naked group activity kind of girl."

He smirked. "Definitely not. These are strictly two-person activities."

They lay together for a moment, content. Eventually he lifted his chin, and turned her head toward him, kissing her long and deep. "Are you cold?" he asked softly.

She shook her head. "Thirsty, maybe."

He nodded and eased out of the bed reluctantly, padding naked to the kitchen, and she admired his confidence as well as his behind as he walked away, returning a minute later with a bottle of water after he'd turned off the TV and lights. He dropped her shirt and bra on the floor.

For a moment he just looked at her. Rory was in his bed. Beautiful, unattainable Rory, curled up in his sheets, looking mussed and perfect. Naked. Because he'd just slept with her. _Sweet Jesus._

He felt himself stirring again and quickly climbed back into the bed beside her, handing her the bottle and bringing the sheet up waist-high, propped on his side and leaning on an elbow. "Do you want to stay?" he asked.

She appraised him as she took a drink. "Do you want me to?" she countered, setting the bottle down between them.

He fondled her breast lazily. "It will make it much more difficult for me to ravage you if you're not here."

"I always said you were smarter than you pretended to be," she smiled at him, easing back down and snuggling next to him. "I want to stay."

He smiled against her neck, realizing how nervous he'd been she was going to leave.

"I'm glad I'm here," she told him after several long minutes, snuggled so close to him they were nose to nose.

"I'm not complaining."

"Will you come with me tomorrow night?" she whispered.

His eyes had been closed as he enjoyed the sightless roaming of his hands over her back, but now they opened. "To the awards thing?"

She nodded, searching his face. "Not because of Logan. Because…I want you to."

His eyes closed again and his hand moved from her back to cup her breast lazily. "I want to see the dress first. Determine if it's worth it," he murmured, then grinned when she let out a cry of disgust and tried to pull away. He laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him and kissing her. "Yes, I'll go. Dress or no dress. Although I'm assuming there's a dress, since you've already made clear your position on naked group activities."

She giggled as he held her to him, his arms wrapped solidly around her. "I'm more excited about the dress now than I was a few hours ago."

He slid her a sexy grin. "Oh yeah?"

Rory's eyes twinkled. "Well, before it was just supposed to make Logan…how did you put it? _Weep. _Now it has a lot of other advantages. Like making _you_ weep."

He grunted, his mouth on her shoulder. "Are you trying to imply that I can be brought down by a skimpy dress?"

"I'm counting on it," she smirked, and turned her head to quickly kiss his lips.

Lying there, wrapped in his arms, Rory couldn't stop the smile on her face. It was perfect, exactly what she'd dreamed of, and yet never what she expected to actually happen.

"This feels okay, right?" she asked a moment later.

He laughed. "You really suck at not talking about this."

"I know! But I can't help it! Stop laughing at me," she demanded, blushing.

"I can't," he grinned.

"I'm serious," she pouted. "Stop it."

His eyes gleamed. "Make me."

The invitation was there.

She bit her lip and adopted an expression of pure innocence. "Did I mention the dress is strapless?"

His eyes lit up. "Yeah?"

"Which requires the same kind of undergarments I had on tonight…but…different," she nodded, trailing a finger down his chest.

"Different?" he asked, his breathing steadily increasing.

"Fancier," she said lightly, circling his nipple with her finger.

He let out a shaky breath as her fingers continued to explore and dance over his skin. "Fancy?"

"Fancy," she assured him. "Slightly naughty even."

His breath caught. "Reeeeally."

Rory grinned to herself and covered his body with hers. "Very little. Not much to them," she murmured, trailing her lips and tongue down his chest, lower until she nipped at his hip. "Almost like I'd be wearing nothing at all."

Jess gasped and bucked slightly. "Oh, God."

With a satisfied smile she ran her hands over the lengths of his thighs and her heart sang when he shuddered beneath her touch. Her fingers trailed lower, through the dark hair below his navel and she shifted to settle herself between his legs. His eyes opened and he gasped again as she gripped his length in her hand and gave him a long pull, followed by several short ones, then leaned over with a gleam in her eyes. Her tongue traced the length of him and his eyes slammed shut, his hands fisting the sheets in a mad grip.

When her lips closed over him and she pulled him into her mouth, then followed the ministrations with her hand, he arched against her with a hiss of pleasure. "Jesus," he gasped as she slowly dove down again, over and over until he was writhing on the bed. When she quickened her pace, delighted that he cried out, his hands grappled for her shoulders, finally resting on her head and pulling her down on to him, guiding her.

His head was spinning and he arched against her mindlessly. "Rory…" he moaned, trying to pull away.

She looked up innocently, not stopping. "Hm?"

"Please…come here," he begged, opening his eyes. The sight of her, heavy-lidded eyes appraising him while she worked him with her mouth and hands, was almost too much and he pulled back as much as he could before he went over the edge. She alternated between lathing the tip of his length with her tongue, then stroking the extent of the soft velvet skin, circling her tongue around him as she held him in her mouth.

"Why?" she pouted.

"I want…with you…" he panted, struggling to pull her closer.

She considered, teasing him with her tongue as she did so. "But…I like this."

He jerked involuntarily at her words. "God, that's hot."

She circled the tip of him with her tongue and he jerked again, hips thrusting blindly. Taking pity on him she grinned and moved up his body, angling herself until just the head of his length was perched at her entrance. Slowly she took him in before quickly retreating, enjoying it when he moaned at the withdrawal, digging his fingers into her hips trying to wrestle her fully onto him.

"Tease," he gasped out.

She arched an eyebrow and dipped lower again causing him to suck in a breath.

With a quick movement he suddenly sat up and plunged into her, causing her to gasp, then moan with pleasure as it shot through her core. Jess flipped her over, never losing their connection, and plunged into her, delighted to discover she was wet and incredibly ready for him. Balancing as best he could on one arm he used his free hand to stroke the nub at the center of her until she was shouting and quaking beneath him.

"Fair's fair," he murmured to her, assaulting her body at the expense of them both.

"Jess!" she screamed, arching her back as she began to fly, and he lost control, falling onto her, hips rocking like pistons against each other until they were both shouting their release.

"Where did you learn that?" he panted, kissing her deeply, still nestled inside her. "No…wait. I don't want to know."

She giggled. "That's taking our honesty session too far," she agreed breathlessly, snuggling up to his side and laying her cheek on his chest.

He stroked her hair as their breathing evened out ever so slowly.

"You make for a really great exercise program," he commented lightly.

"This is way better than any gym. Though some gyms have big guys who give you massages after a workout," she smiled.

"Needling me for a massage won't make it happen. I can't move."

She moved her chin to look up at him. "Pleasantly spent."

"If you want to get dressed before we fall asleep, now's the time to do it because after this I'm not letting you move," he warned her, stroking the mess of hair from her forehead.

She smiled softly at the gesture and snuggled back down, listening to his heartbeat against his chest. "So you'll be my date tomorrow night?"

He smiled. "Sure."

"You have to wear a suit."

"I probably have one of those somewhere around here."

"I'm serious."

"So am I," he smiled against her hair. "You may not have noticed, but I dress considerably better than I once did. Well…I dress more like an adult, anyway."

"Oh, I noticed."

His eyebrow went up. "Checking me out?" he teased.

Her eyes found his, smiling. "More than once. Especially when you walked to the kitchen for the water."

He chuckled. "I wasn't wearing anything then."

"And I _really_ appreciated it." She moved from his side to locate her shirt and the excuse she called underwear, dressing quickly and tossing his boxer briefs at him before climbing back into bed.

"What time's this thing tomorrow?" he asked as they snuggled down together.

"I have to be there at six, but it doesn't start until seven," she murmured, wrapped in his arms, spooning her back to his chest. "There's a dinner, then a very long ceremony. But there'll be celebrities."

"Yeah, you know I'm just crazy for celebrities."

"It was my next bribe to get you there, after the dress," she murmured sleepily.

He smiled as she yawned. "What time do you need to get up tomorrow?"

"Don't care. By noon is good."

"A woman after my writer's heart. We never get up before lunch."

"See you in the morning," she smiled to herself, then turned to kiss him.

"See you in the morning," he repeated happily, returning the kiss, relaxing against her, waiting for sleep.

AN: Well? Worth the wait? :)


End file.
